#if i ever get the energy to do it at all (whatever the result is) it would take. a while. but that much longer if i merged

[confused-since-birth]

Razor's grip - part four

other chapters: 1 2 3

✨Notes: Hiii! I hope you enjoy this part as well, it isn't proofread yet, it might be incoherent in some parts, but I will edit it later. I would love feedback and advice where is needed. 💕

✨Characters: Sylus, non-mc!reader, Philip the shop owner, gang members

✨word count: 1672

✨warnings: men being weird, curse words at some point, death (insinuated), low-key stalking

Sylus wasn’t one to make rash decisions without a reason behind them. He also didn’t want useless elements anywhere near him; after all, the more, the harder to control. In this case, the first time the shop owner mentioned a certain student whose name appeared on very interesting papers Sylus paid no mind. He almost didn’t even recognize your name in some old files from Ever. Curiosity got the better of him and read your file: med student, an internship at Ever that was cut short without explanation. This intrigued him. He tried searching for an explanation on why was the internship so short, why did you give up, only to research protocores and the such.

After some days passed, he got his hands on a report from around that time. It stated that there was an incident regarding a procedure that was supposed to implant low energy protocores in some patients, then slowly raise the level of energy gradually while inside the body through different methods. However, things didn’t go as planned.

But there was no mention of you being present there in that moment.

Soon after, you gave up the internship at Ever, dropped out of medical school and enrolled in the University of Physics and Astronomy of Linkon City. Quite the change, you could say.

Sylus could feel something weird was happening the moment that one day, he came across a photo of you walking down the street, unknowing, and your address in newer files.

If you weren’t there that night, left with no problems, why would they put so much effort in keeping tabs on you?

That was the moment he decided that maybe Philip would appreciate a pair of hands in his shop that could help him. If Ever was so interested in your person, maybe you would prove to be an ace up his sleeve.

The night he saw you face to face for the first time, blood and sweat on your face he felt something close to familiarity. The fire in your eyes, the need to negotiate even if your life might’ve been in danger, startled something in him. He didn’t know what for sure, maybe amusement? Whatever it was, it made him want to see what will you do.

The week passed almost without noticing. You were starting to get used to the change. At first, the only thing you did was write reports and do the calculations for Philip to ease his work. He taught you new things, becoming your colleague and professor at the same time. Then, trying to help him more, you also started to work on the enhancers and repair broken pieces.

Sunday, while almost pulling your hair out because your results were far from the correct answer, you noticed Sylus standing in the door frame, waiting to be noticed. In his hand was a bag.

“I was wondering if, waiting for you to notice me, I will turn into a clothes hanger”, he says almost displeased.

“Did you go shopping and missed me?”, you reply dryly.

His only answer is a half smirk, while walking towards you. Sylus drops the bag on you papers and says:

“Go change quickly.”

In the bag were black dress pants and a jacket. They were beautifully tailored, fitting you like a second skin. The jacket was made a little longer than most would be. It closed with a red leather belt. They were comfortable and looked good. You put your hair in a bun, put on some shoes, and get in the car with Sylus.

“Thank you for the suit”, you say. It was unexpected, but much needed. You didn’t really have nice clothes and most of the time, near him, you feel inadequate anyway. “Where are we going?”

“A meeting”, he answers shortly, leaving no place for other discussions.

A deep sigh leaves your chest and chose to look out the window.

Sylus watches you with the corner of his eye, unbeknownst to you. He didn’t think the suit will look this good on your body. It was indeed simple, black and a speck of red. Did the red of the belt match the red of his eyes? Maybe. Did it stir a form of pride the fact that you wore his colors, while walking with that silent confidence of yours? Maybe. Your presence had a strange calming effect on him. There was only one person who could truly make him feel happy and calm, but it mustn’t be wrong to feel pleased with his employee. After all, you were the ace up his sleeve.

The meeting was held in the same hotel from almost a week ago. Sylus signals with a nod to follow him, which you do. He leads you in a room that would seem pretty cozy – as cozy as it could be in a hotel in the N109 Zone – if it weren’t for the two guys that were already sitting at the table and their bodyguards behind them.

The one whom you guessed to be the boss, looked intimidating – black hair that was kept in place by too much gel, a big nose in the center of his face and lips that were too thin and slim. His eyes got a glint of mischief when looking at you, they trailed over your body in a way that made your stomach want to get out through your throat. His body was too buff for the suit he wore.

Next to this man, was another that looked sickly – pale with long limbs, dark circles under his brown eyes that were partially masked by his round glasses. Blonde hair that looked messy fell in curls on his forehead.

None of them looked trustworthy.

“Good evening, Mr. Sylus! I see you brought a friend”, the buff man says with a tone that perhaps held a little too much arrogance. “Quite the beautiful lady.”

Sylus pulls a chair for you then sits down himself, next to you, taking space not only with his body, but his aura. The air felt a little electric around him, your senses picking up danger flowing of off him just like his intoxicating perfume.

“You may start”, is the only thing he tells them.

Without other setbacks they start presenting what they called ‘very very high grade protocores’ that were obtained in their labs – those didn’t look very high grade. They then started to present the weapons they used them on, how they were the best on the market and so on and so forth. Half way in their speech you zoomed out for a while. The deal was quite simple to understand – they were selling the protocores, weapons and some labs. But there was some missing plot in their fairytale.

The labs were supposed to be very safe and have top technology. Especially, if they used it to enhance and put into weapons as advanced as they were claiming. The personnel of the labs should be composed of top-notch scientists for everything to go this well. Looking at them and what they brought… this was very unlikely. Not to say how much it would cost to have one such lab…

At your core, you were a very logic person or, at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. So, if someone says something, they should bring proof. If you want to sell something that promises so much, you should prove that it’s so efficient – reports. You bet that the blonde guy was one of those so called ‘scientists’ and the files in front of him are the reports regarding the protocores and weapons. You would love to read those.

It wasn’t only the useless talk that wore your patience thin, but the looks the buff man gave you. Your suit and turtleneck were nothing short of decent. He was looking at you like you wore a minidress and poured chocolate on yourself.

Sylus sits relaxed in his seat looking at you from time to time. Your face gives away no emotion, but your eyes were talking. He could see that discomfort was starting to make itself known inside of you by the way you were blinking less, your eyes locked on those two morons in front. The white-haired man wanted to see your assertiveness, how you bite while keeping your voice low.

He knew the deal was bullshit, but he wanted to see you work, keep afloat and ultimately win. He needed to get you out of your shell.

“I think my friend has something to say”, are the words that slip past Sylus’s lips, slightly mortifying you.

“I think that some written proof of this efficiency would make what you say more believable.”, you say trying to keep your composure.

The blonde looks unsettled at his boss who no longer looks at you with perverted thoughts. A scowl blooms on his face.

“How about a pretty girl like you just listens to what us men talk? Stress causes wrinkles, I heard”

“It seems that you might know more about wrinkles than protocores. This doesn’t raise your credibility, though.”

A chuckle can be heard from your left from Sylus.

You don’t know what look did Sylus give them, however it doesn’t really matter as the files find themselves in your hands.

It takes a while to understand them completely, but when you do… they are laughable.

“It might have been alright, if what you’ve brought here today was the real thing, but…reading this I see that you are still making mistakes that are weird for such good scientists. The major problem – actually, one of the major problems – is that you are altering them in unsafe conditions at unsafe rates. You are forcing low grade ones to try and pass them as high grade, while making them unstable. These are real time bombs, nothing else."

Your words sealed their fate. Not only was the deal a bad one, but their intent was to fool him. That wouldn’t do.

Sylus signaled you to leave, which you are very happy to. There are no questions about what happened after you left as gunshots were heard down the hall.

--------

tags: @m00njinnie @allura-miss @phisen

[mcmansionhell]

namesake mcmansion

Howdy folks! Today's McMansion is very special because a) we're returning to Maryland after a long time and b) because the street this McMansion is on is the same as my name. (It was not named after me.) Hence, it is my personal McMansion, which I guess is somewhat like when people used to by the name rights to stars even though it was pretty much a scam. (Shout out btw to my patron Andros who submitted this house to be roasted live on the McMansion Hell Patreon Livestream)

As far as namesake McMansions go, this one is pretty good in the sense that it is high up there on the ol' McMansion scale. Built in 2011, this psuedo-Georgian bad boy boasts 6 bedrooms and 9.5 baths, all totaling around 12,000 square feet. It'll run you 2.5 million which, safe to say, is exponentially larger than its namesake's net worth.

Now, 2011 was an anonymous year for home design, lingering in the dead period between the 2008 black hole and 2013 when the market started to actually, finally, steadily recover. As a result a lot of houses from this time basically look like 2000s McMansions but slightly less outrageous in order to quell recession-era shame.

I'm going to be so serious here and say that the crown molding in this room is a crime against architecture, a crime against what humankind is able to accomplish with mass produced millwork, and also a general affront to common sense. I hate it so much that the more I look at it the more angry I become and that's really not healthy for me so, moving on.

Actually, aside from the fake 2010s distressed polyester rug the rest of this room is literally, basically Windows 98 themed.

I feel like the era of massive, hefty sets of coordinated furniture are over. However, we're the one's actually missing out by not wanting this stuff because we will never see furniture made with real wood instead of various shades of MDF or particleboard ever again.

This is a top 10 on the scale of "least logical kitchen I've ever seen." It's as though the designers engineered this kitchen so that whoever's cooking has to take the most steps humanly possible.

Do you ever see a window configuration so obviously made up by window companies in the 1980s that you almost have to hand it to them? You're literally letting all that warmth from the fire just disappear. But whatever I guess it's fine since we basically just LARP fire now.

Feminism win because women's spaces are prioritized in a shared area or feminism loss because this is basically the bathroom vanity version of women be shopping? (It's the latter.)

I couldn't get to all of this house because there were literally over a hundred photos in the listing but there are so many spaces in here that are basically just half-empty voids, and if not that then actually, literally unfinished. It's giving recession. Anyway, now for the best part:

Not only is this the NBA Backrooms but it's also just a nonsensical basketball court. Tile floors? No lines? Just free balling in the void?

Oh, well I bet the rear exterior is totally normal.

Not to be all sincere about it but much like yours truly who has waited until the literal last second to post this McMansion, this house really is the epitome of hubris all around. Except the house's hubris is specific to this moment in time, a time when gas was like $2/gallon. It's climate hubris. It's a testimony to just how much energy the top 1% of income earners make compared to the rest of us. I have a single window unit. This house has four air conditioning condensers. That's before we get to the monoculture, pesticide-dependent lawn or the three car garage or the asphalt driveway or the roof that'll cost almost as much as the house to replace. We really did think it would all be endless. Oops.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[moonyswifee]

the void, shifting, pure consciousness & why it "isn't working" for you.

there are probably a million posts on tumblr about why you can't enter the void, 200 different methods to do it, and what all you're doing wrong. but some people still do not get it, which is fine, so im hoping this post might help them.

the void state is just you. pure consciousness is just you. the I AM state is just you.

its all inside of you. you're not entering a separate dimension when you're going into the void state. you're just placing your awareness inside you, more than your physical form.

now moving on to why you can't get into that state, which is probably why you're reading this post anyways. there's a hundred different methods and tools online and you tried them all, and all it resulted was in your being frustrated, dejected and having a sense of failure.

let me tell you, i was literally in the same place as you just a few days ago. i kept listening to subliminals, alpha meditations, affirming and what not. but i didnt, as you might expect, enter the void.

this is because when we try all these different methods, and get frustrated when it doesnt work out, its sending a message to the universe and to our subconscious, that we are in a state of lack. no matter how much you affirm otherwise, if your energy is giving off that you dont have something, but you need something, you're not going to get it.

the more you chase something, the farther it runs from you.

and right now, trying all those methods and waking up dejected and frustrated, "why can i not go into the void? im doing everything right!" because you are functioning from a state of lack. you are doing too much. going into the void is supposed to be easy and relaxing. you're not supposed to overthink it. if you keep affirming that state of lack unknowingly into your subconscious, that is whats going to happen.

so my advice on this would be— to detach.

and no, i don't mean stop wanting your desires, or completely give up on waking up in the void.

i mean, know that you want to wake up in the void, and just let it happen. I'll give some steps that you can follow if they feel right:

1. choose one method. what i mean by this is that you can choose a method that you know could serve you best, personally for me, I've found it is SATS. even just having awareness of the void can work.

2. repeat affirmations. whenever you feel like it. just pick a couple or affirmations, or just one, and repeat it whenever you feel like it throughout the day. some examples are-

☆ i always easily wake up in the void.

☆ i can effortlessly induce the void state.

☆ i am always aware in the void state.

3. also do affirmations while you're trying to enter. whenever you're going to try to enter the void again, with whatever method, saying some mental or verbal affirmations could be helpful. but do not do them if it feels too forced. you can just say it before you induce the void state also. some affirmations like-

☆ i am.

☆ i am the void.

☆ i am pure consciousness.

☆ i am aware of the void.

5. let it flow. probably the most important one here. just decide, and let it come to you naturally. what i mean by this is, you've done your method, you've said your affirmations and you believe in them, which is important. you have done literally everything in your power. now let the void come to you. do not chase after it, like i said, the more you chase, the further it runs.

there is literally not one success story that i have ever read, where the person says that they got into the void after hard work, or stressing or frustration. every single success story, is about how it was easy, and unexpected. so if you're feeling stressed about it, and still trying, guess what? its not going to work.

say your affirmations, believe that you will wake up in the void state, and let. it. go.

but even if you don't wake up in the void state on the first day of trying, its OKAY. don't get frustrated or dejected by that. its normal for it to take some time. just wake up, and keep affirming.

personally, before going to bed (which is when i prefer to enter the void) i like to say "i am going to wake up in the void tonight." and even if i dont, i wake up the next morning and i like to say "i did enter the void." even if i didnt, it kind of affirms to your brain. then just move on with your day, and don't stress about it.

in summary, the void will only work if you stop chasing it. do your work, and let go. and keep trying. its a natural state of being. its okay if it takes some time, dont beat yourself up over it. you are not doing anything wrong. just trust, and you will wake up in the void eventually <3

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[demonpiratehuntress]

before you (Straw Hats + Ace, Law)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - they find out you had a crush on someone else on the crew/someone they know before them

warnings - none

a/n - one energy drink later, i have three posts out...oh well, i'm not complaining

ZORO

Honestly, he didn't even care.

Until he learned who it was, that is.

"You had a crush on WHO?!" Is what the rest of the crew woke up to one day. You tried your best to hush him, saying that everyone's sleeping, but he was having a meltdown.

A few minutes later, when everyone was piling into the kitchen for breakfast, eyes still losing remnants of sleepiness, they saw the swordsman sitting at the table, one blade ominously on his lap.

"Uh, Zoro?" Usopp laughed nervously, putting Sanji between himself and Zoro. "What are you doing?"

"I just want to talk to Luffy," came the steely, scary calm response.

"Me?" The captain blinked. "What did I do?"

You stood at the back of the group, rubbing your temples. Bickering with Zoro had taken a lot out of you, the stubborn swordsman refusing to accept the fact that your crush on Luffy was in the past.

"Let's go," Nami was the first to leave, deciding that whatever it was could stay between the two arguably strongest members of the group. Then she seemed to realise that, and froze. "Actually, absolutely not."

But before she could get to either one of them, Zoro demonstrated just what had made him so frightening to pirates and lunged at Luffy with inhuman speed. Which resulted in him chasing the captain around the Going Merry, yelling at him and slashing with his sword - possibly taking a hair off Luffy's head.

"WHAT DID I DO?!"

ACE

When you revealed that you used to have a - harmless, innocent, you added - crush on Marco, Ace immediately wanted to throw himself overboard. He's so dramatic, acting like you stabbed him in the back, pouting for the rest of the day.

When anyone asked him what was wrong, he crossed his arms, huffed, and said, "Ask (Name), the traitor."

You just sighed, explaining that he's upset over something you said. But then moments later, Marco appeared and Ace practically glowers in his direction, mini flames burning in his eyes.

"Will you calm down!" You exclaimed, putting yourself between the two of them as Ace raised a flame-engulfed hand.

Marco raised an eyebrow, "What's with him now?"

"Nothing!" You assured him, then turned your gaze on Ace, an intense look in your eyes, "Right, Ace? We're all fine."

"...Right," he murmured, extinguishing his ball of fire. He looked away, refusing to even glance in Marco's direction now. He crossed his thick arms over his bare chest, grumbling under his breath.

Marco eyed him warily, but walked away without questioning Ace's odd behaviour further. No one could ever explain it anyway.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, "Ace, look at me."

"No."

"Ace!"

"No!"

Giving up, you just wrapped your arms around his torso from behind, pressing featherlight kisses to his shoulder. When his body visibly relaxed, you grinned.

"...I hate when you do that," he mumbled, annoyance fading quickly.

"Liar, you love it."

LAW

Law offered you a...blank look. This information was not exactly new to him. He had already known, after all he'd been there to witness it. He just wondered why you found it necessary to tell him about it, especially when it wasn't relevant to him at all.

The changes were subtle, but you started noticing them as the days passed by. Penguin's workload increased, he was told to do more chores, and Law even gave into some of the other crew's demands - which were made to tease Penguin - to make Penguin do their chores.

"Did I...did I do something wrong?" You heard him asking Shachi and Bepo one day, panic in his voice.

You made your way to Law's quarters, knocking before you stepped inside, "Is there a reason that Penguin seems to be doing half the crew's work recently?"

For a brief, imperceptible moment, Law tensed. Then he regained his composure, and spoke without lifting his eyes from his work, "I don't know what you mean, (Name)-ya."

"I think you do," you walked over, standing right beside him. "And it's not his fault."

"Of course not. He simply volunteered to assist other crewmembers."

You sighed, shaking your head, "So it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I used to have a crush on him before I started liking you?"

Again, that barely-noticeable tension, before the calm returned, "You did? Fascinating." His tone was dry, and you found it incredible that he could deny what was so obvious while simultaneously insulting you with a sarcastic remark.

"But I told you-"

"When? I don't recall."

You sighed. This man was impossible.

LUFFY

Luffy burst out laughing, unfazed by your admission. Oh, you had a crush on Usopp before you started liking him? No problem! What could he do about it? It was in the past, no sense dwelling on it.

"Uh...are you sure, Luffy?" You raised an eyebrow, slightly disappointed that he wasn't more worked up about it.

"Yes!" The captain beamed. "You're mine now, right? It doesn't matter!"

While his logic was absolutely flawless, for once since you'd met him, you were bewildered. He was so calm about this, remaining cheerful despite you telling him you liked another crewmember once.

But over the next few days, there were signs that it affected him more than you thought. Usopp was suddenly sitting way across from you at the table, never volunteered to pair up with you when you split into groups at nearby islands, and always avoided eye contact when you spoke to him - though you later found out he was just watching out for the captain.

"Luffy!" You called, after getting sick of Usopp's hesitance to be anywhere near you alone, even on the ship.

"Yes, (Name)?" Your boyfriend smiled innocently, though that might have been because he either forgot what he did, or he didn't see anything wrong with it.

"Why is Usopp behaving like that?" You asked him. "Is this because of what I told you?"

Luffy laughed, shaking his head, "No, I'm sure it's just because he's not feeling well!"

"Uh huh..."

Luffy extended his arms to grab you, pulling you onto Merry's figurehead with him, "Let's stop talking about Usopp."

His tone left no room for argument.

SANJI

One would think that you had just broken up with him, or beat him over the head with a wooden plank severely. The chef was laying on the floor, after having passed out, now crying rivers.

"Sanji-" You began, but didn't know what to tell him.

"My heart!" He wailed, "How could you do this to me, my sweet (Name)?!"

"What did you do?" Nami asked you, laughing.

"I just told him that I used to like Zoro," you sighed, "And now he won't stop saying that I broke his heart."

Chopper went to check on Sanji, worried that you revelation might have actually impacted him - only to find out that Sanji was, in fact, just being overly dramatic.

"Sanji-" You started again.

"Noooo!" He cried, pouting. "It hurts too much!"

"Get over yourself, idiot," Zoro grumbled, "It's not like she still has those feelings."

That seemed to snap Sanji out of it, because then he was on his feet and he kicked the swordsman through the wall. Usopp screamed and rushed to inspect the damage, while you gave Nami one look and she broke the fight up by twisting both their ears like they were little kids, until they apologised.

USOPP

He was devastated. Because what do you mean you used to like Sanji???? What do you mean you had a crush on the most romantic, most flirtatious Straw Hat????? He almost passed out, but ended up crying instead.

And then he tried to take Sanji out - the sniping kind.

"Usopp!" You laughed when you saw him take aim at the chef while he was cooking. "Stop that!"

He stopped, standing up straight and hiding his slingshot behind his back, trying to look innocent, as if he hadn't just been attempting to assassinate the blonde cook.

You assumed that was the last of it, as you had assured him your crush on Sanji was in the past, and would never resurface again.

Then you heard screaming, a loud bang, and a frustrated yell.

When you got to where the commotion was, the rest of the crew was there. Luffy and Zoro were laughing, because Sanji's hair was standing up in all different directions, his face looking like he'd put it near a bomb.

Or like a bomb had exploded near him...

"Usopp!" You yelled, "Why did you do that?! I mean, I know why, but I thought we were over this!"

"I'm satisfied now," he said proudly, walking away.

Sanji tried to go after him, but Nami helped you out by stopping him - she actually just wanted an excuse to hit him.

There was never a dull day with the Straw Hat crew.

[dduane]

I like writing a lot…..

But when does it stop being soul sucking????

How can both be true??

(sigh) Easily. All the arts are full of apparent contradictions like this.

Re: writing, specifically: This work is a very particular kind of magic. And like all real magics, the use of it inevitably has a price.

"Soul-sucking" strikes me as a slightly harsh idiom for the payment of the Writing Price. But that's okay, because the idiom itself points at the remedy. And it's really simple! Just this:

Every time you sit down to write, you have to consciously work to do it well enough so that you grow some more soul.

(I mean, you don't think that souls run out when you use them, surely? Or can't regenerate over time? They can be surprisingly resilient... assuming you don't buy into the idea that they're limited to what you feel like you started out with, or what you've got at the moment.)

Repeatedly pouring your soul into your work is very much like bodybuilding. At first it hurts like hell. Then the body starts to adjust to the increased demands you're putting on it. After a while you look back and find you've blown way past the boundaries that you earlier thought were impassible.

When you start getting that soul-sucked feeling, it's just a sign that the workouts are having an effect. It's the equivalent of the lactic-acid ache after a session at the gym. But you still need to keep working at it to improve your results. If you find you need to take more rest time between writing bouts to replenish your reserves, fine: work out what your best refractory period seems to be, and adjust your workload to suit that as best you can. But at all costs, keep writing, at whatever interval works best. Over time, it does get easier.

Does it ever stop "sucking" / demanding that price?

Nope. Sorry! But you can learn over time to grow into those inevitable demands on your time, energy and commitment. Just keep reminding yourself: Nothing truly worth doing ever comes without a price tag. And the more you work at your craft, over time, the bigger the price tags you'll find you can afford without flinching.

...So get back in the gym. (And I hope this helps!)

[lilyswritings]

called it !

synopsis: academic rivals to lovers with jordan li. need i say more?

author’s note: i watched gen v lastt fall and fell absolutely head over heels for jordan li, and ever since then i've had the brainrot of thinking non-stop about academic rivals/enemies to lovers with them, and.... well, anyway, here's the result of that! took me a ridiculously long amoung of time so i hope you guys enjoy — it's actually my birthday today, so here's my birthday gift to you all! <3 also, in case the powers get confusing i figured i would explain ahead of time lol : reader’s powers are energy absorption/redistribution — when skin on skin contact is made, reader can absorb energy from others, and can redistribute it through blasts of energy/heightened strength <3

wordcount: 4,390.... buckle in, i'm insane.

Jordan Li x Reader

"God, they are so fucking annoying." You grumble, sinking lower into your chair as you watch Jordan Li tug some pretty new freshman into one of the rows of bookshelves, signature smirk plastered on their lips as they seek somewhere private. The freshman giggles and blinks up at them with big doe eyes as they disappear behind the stacks, and you roll your eyes dramatically. "Like, get a room, am I right?"

It's insufferable.

Your table is suddenly quiet, too quiet, and when you look back over at your friends they're exchanging sideways glances with each other, lips pressed together. "Okay, what's up with you two?" You demand, exasperated, and Emma shrugs, biting her lip.

"Sounds like someone's jealous." The last word comes out in a sing-song voice and your mouth drops open, aghast.

"What? Why the hell would I be—?" You sputter, glancing between them, and Marie raises her eyebrows at you.

"Oh, come on, it's like you two are... Magnetic, or something. They walk by, you watch, you enter a room, they appear moments later. It's kind of sweet." Marie tucks a braid behind her ear as she talks, brown eyes blinking at you.

"Uh, no, no no —" You're flailing, taken completely aback by what your friends are saying. Okay, fine, you might have had a crush on Jordan for a good two years at this point, but it's not like you ogle them whenever they're in the room with you, or, well—

Okay, so maybe you do, but they definitely aren't ogling back at you, and that's what matters. "That's so entirely not what's happening here."

It's no secret on campus that you and Jordan don't like each other — ever since Brink decided to hire you as another teaching assistant for him, Jordan has taken every possible chance to fuck with you, and vice versa.

A stack of papers you graded for Brink will disappear only to helpfully be found by Jordan a day later, filed in the 'wrong place' — you know damn well you filed them correctly — or you'll swoop in and pick up Brink's coffee order before Jordan has the chance to, smiling widely at your boss when he tells you that you always get his order 'just right'.

Yes, it's petty, but they started it. They can't stand not being Brink's favourite anymore, so they take it out on you. You, in turn, wreak your own little havoc on their life, having attempted the agreeable and polite route first, only to be scoffed at and ignored at every turn — so, if they want to play it like this, then so be it.

Marie and Emma sneak a glance at each other again and you scoff. "Oh my god! Seriously, you guys! That's so not what's going on there, and— I don't even know where you got that idea in the first place."

"Okay, sure, whatever you say." Marie holds up her hands in a surrendering motion, reaching down to pick her pen back up, and you nod, glad that they're finally dropping the matter, until you look back up and catch your blonde friend peering over her laptop at you, a mischievous look in her big blue eyes.

"It's adorable, though, really, that you think you're hiding it." Emma tacks on unhelpfully, and you toss your pencil at her, her ensuing giggle only succeeding in riling you up even more.

"You guys are way off base." You finally muster up your composure enough to retort, gaze focused firmly on the assignment in front of you. "They're the bane of my existence."

You do, however, sneak a sly glance up as Jordan and their cute little companion exit the bookshelves, smirking, and you can't suppress your nose scrunching up at the sight of their hand resting on the curve of the freshman's back.

So annoying, you think, turning back to write your paper, completely missing the knowing glance exchanged between your friends as Jordan peeks over their shoulder at you right before leaving the library.

A few days later, you find yourself in the training room, trying to channel your frustration into something productive. The poor defenseless sparring dummy in front of you is taking the brunt of your anger, but the real source of your irritation is fueled by an interaction you had with Jordan earlier that day.

It was during your Combat Tactics class, a course where you and Jordan are both top students, constantly trying to outdo each other. The two of you had been paired up for a demonstration, something that tends to bring out the worst streak of competitiveness in the both of you.

The exercise was supposed to be a simple takedown — no powers involved — but of course, nothing’s simple when it comes to you and Jordan. The instructor had barely finished explaining the guidelines when Jordan had shifted to their female form, quick as lightning, darting towards you to try and catch you off guard.

You barely managed to counter, blindsided, briefly side stepping out of their path, but before you knew it, Jordan had doubled down, shifting into their male form and using their superior strength to pin you against the mat.

“Too slow." They’d taunted, dark eyes glimmering with victory as they leaned down, keeping you immobilized.

Your blood had boiled at the sound of their smug tone, and with a surge of your power, your eyes had lit up and blasted a bright light in their face, managing to flip the situation and pin them beneath you. You smirked as you leaned down, eyes still aglow, and caught Jordan looking at you with something that could almost be construed as admiration.

Your instructor's voice cut through the tension, telling you off for using your powers, and your heart dropped as she informed you that you'd failed the exercise.

The smirk on Jordan’s face as they got up told you everything — you might have won the round, but they’d gotten under your skin and made you fuck up in front of a teacher.

“Tough luck.” They’d said, acting as if they had no part in what just happened, and your brow furrowed.

“It wasn’t luck,” You’d shot back, your voice low and tense. “You goaded me into that.”

Jordan had simply shrugged, a smug smile on their face as they backed out of the room, an action that lit your blood on fire.

Now, as you throw yet another punch at the dummy, you can’t stop replaying the way they’d looked at you — like they were enjoying pushing your buttons and causing you to fuck up in front of the whole class. It drives you crazy, the way they always manage to get a rise out of you, no matter how hard you try to keep your cool.

There's a gust of air that alerts you to the opening of the door to the training room behind you, and you don’t even need to look to know it’s them.

Jordan saunters into the room, their presence filling the space with that same infuriating confidence as they quirk an eyebrow at you, dark hair pulled into a low ponytail and workout clothes on that leave nothing to the imagination about their feminine form.

God, focus.

“Still working on that form, rookie?” They quip as they lean against a pillar, their tone light but with an undercurrent of smugness that makes your teeth clench.

“The form that beat you earlier?” You retort, not bothering to hide the edge in your voice as you raise an eyebrow at them.

Jordan smirks, clearly amused. “Should I be impressed that you're winning the fight against the inanimate object?" They push off the pillar and saunter closer. “You know, if you want to get better, you should train with something that can actually fight back.”

You narrow your eyes at them, knowing full well this is just another one of their games. “Thanks, but I don’t need your help.”

“Scared you’ll lose?”

“Scared you’ll get your ass handed to you again.” You retort, your competitive streak flaring up.

Jordan’s eyes gleam with a challenge, and before you know it, they’ve beckoned you into the ring with them. Your heart thuds in your chest, adrenaline already raised from the tension of the earlier fight and your sparring before they’d arriver.

They cock their head at you, raising an eyebrow, and you grit your teeth. As soon as they go to land a blow on you, your hand latches around their wrist, your powers kicking in as you begin to draw energy from them. 

Your eyes start to glow, alerting them to your move, and they tug their arm away from you and blast you with a beam of light, something you just barely duck out of the path of. You manage to shift your weight and throw a punch back at them, but they switch forms at the last second and it your fist lands on what feels like a concrete wall. 

  The sparring match lasts a while, an intense match where neither of you are willing to back down first. Jordan is quick, but when in their masculine form you’re faster, landing blows that surprise even yourself. But Jordan catches on to some of your moves and soon the match devolves into a close-quarters struggle.

At one point, you find yourself beneath them, their hands locked around your wrists, pinning you to the ground, dark eyes locked on yours. The proximity is overwhelming, and for a split second, something shifts in the air between you. 

You can see the glint in their eyes, a mix of triumph and something else — something that makes your heart pound in a way that has nothing to do with the fight. Their eyes dart down your face, their grip on your wrists faltering, and you take seize your chance to tug out a hand and latch onto their wrist, absorbing some of their energy and temporarily breaking their super strength advantage over you. 

With that burst of energy you maneuver out from under them and roll away, getting back on your feet.

Jordan’s eyebrows are raised when they stand back up, seemingly impressed as they look down at their hands, clearly feeling weaker than usual. “Not bad, rookie.” 

“Was that a compliment?” You smirk, and their own lips curve in response.

“Was that a smile?” They gasp dramatically, and you force your face to go blank again as you spin on your heel to leave, finding it harder to keep the smile off your face.

“Don’t get used to it.” You shoot back as you leave the gym, but your words hold no venom and you miss the bright smile that cracks open Jordan’s face as you disappear down the corridor.

Three days later, Brink announces that he wants you and Jordan to work together to plan an upcoming fundraiser for Godolkin, much to Jordan's dismay. Normally, this sort of thing would be left entirely up to Jordan, but for some reason Brink wanted you in on it as well.

Which leads to now — you, stood in front of your locker, attempting to get in contact with Jordan for the umpteenth time. They're throwing a tantrum at having to share the project with you, and it's really starting to piss you off. You try their phone again, cursing when you get voicemail yet again.

"Look, Jordan, this wasn't my decision, so stop punishing me for it. It's what Brink wants, and we have got to get together to start planning. This is my fifth time calling," You tack on, getting irritated. "Pick up the fucking phone, you're acting like a child. You can't ignore me forever." You finish, ending the call with an exasperated sigh.

You curse again, your eyes beginning to glow faintly as your anger begins to get the best of you, but you take a calming breath and will your eyes to fade back to normal. Making a scene in the hallway isn't going to help anyone. You've just about calmed yourself down when you spot a familiar head of black hair a few feet down the hallway and your mouth drops open when you spot Jordan and their friends.

"Motherfucker..." You curse, the visual confirmation that they are indeed ignoring you relighting your anger.

"Jordan." You call after them, brows furrowing as they begin to disappear down the busy hallway. You scoff as you continue after them, irritated by being lured into a chase. "Jordan!"

You know they can hear you when they half-turn their head and shift into their female form, now shorter than most of the crowd, causing you to lose sight of them and pissing you off even more as they continue their brisk pace down the hallway.

You stand on your tiptoes, trying to get a good look at them again, when someone grabs your arm and roughly tugs you towards them. When you look up, your eyes land on campus sleazebag Rufus, a smug smile plastered on his face, and your eyes glow immediately at the sight of him.

"Nice light show." He snarks, stepping into your personal space, and your hands begin to emit light as well, your built-up anger from the day coming to a head.

"Fuck off." You would hope your building powers make him get the memo, but he just steps closer to you, effectively backing you into a locker with nowhere to go.

"Do you also light up when, you know..." His eyes dart down the length of your body and your nose scrunches in disgust as you tug your arm, trying to get out of his grip, but his stupid advanced strength means he keeps a firm grip on you.

You open your mouth to tell him where he can shove it, when—

"Back the fuck up." Jordan seems to materialize at your side, suddenly almost a foot taller in their male form, glower plastered to their face. Rufus' smug expression drops, definitely not prepared to go head to head with the second ranked supe at God U.

"Yeah, whatever." Rufus scoffs, dropping your arm and practically high-tailing it away, leaving you rubbing at the spot on your arm where he was holding you.

Once he's gone, Jordan turns back to you, peering down at you with crossed arms. "You good?" Their dark eyes search yours, and you roll your eyes dramatically in response.

"Oh, so now you're not ignoring me?" They look taken aback, and you take the opportunity to plant your hands on your hips.

"I wasn't ignoring you, I was busy."

You scoff. "Too busy to check your phone?"

"Whatever." They turn to walk away, and you can't help yourself from opening your mouth again.

"I didn't need your help, by the way. I was handling that just fine."

They stop, facing you again and folding their arms together, one dark eyebrow quirked. "Sure you were."

"I was! I didn't need you to swoop in, Number Two. I'm not some civilian in distress."

"Yeah, well, you're lucky he didn't get into your head and fuck with it."

"Oh, please. If he'd even tried I would have blasted his ass all the way to the Vought-A-Burger." At that, you spot their mouth curl up at the edges, a sight that makes warmth fill your stomach.

Just as they open their mouth again, their dark eyes land on something behind you and their mouth clamps shut. You spin to find Emma and Marie approaching, the two women glancing between you and Jordan and you can practically smell the avalanche of teasing you're about to endure.

"I'll text you." Jordan nods as they practically spin on their heel and disappear, and you purse your lips together just as Emma appears in front of you, jaw dropped in a dramatic expression as she turns to watch Jordan leave.

"They'll 'text you'?" Marie quotes, eyes wide, and you roll your eyes.

"For an assignment from Brink. Seriously, quit it. It's not what you think." Right as you're in the middle of scolding her for her assumption, your phone pings, and when you glance at the lit-up screen, a text from Jordan awaits you —

Lunch tomorrow?

Your lips twist into a smile before you can help it and right as you realize your mistake your phone is snatched out of your hand. Emma gasps, turning the phone towards Marie whose eyes light up as she reads the text on the screen.

"You liiiiike them, you wanna kiiiiiiss them." Emma teases, her voice lilting in a sing-song tone, and you snatch your phone back out of her hand.

"What are you, twelve?" You roll your eyes, but there's definitely a flush rising to your cheeks, one that neither of your friends lets go unnoticed.

"I knew this was going to happen, I just didn't think it would be so soon." Marie comments, and you groan, knowing the two of them are never going to let this go.

Lunch the next day does not go as planned.

Brink, at the last minute, decides to tag along and 'listen in' to your brainstorming session, nullifying the brief camaraderie sparked between you and Jordan the day before. Sitting opposite them in an empty classroom, going over details for the fundraiser, it’s been nothing but tension from the start — you figure that their switch up in attitude it due to their role as Brink's TA, their competitiveness just can't let things be.

“I think a good idea could be a silent auction. Maybe we could get some of the alumni to donate—” You begin, but Jordan cuts you off with a scoff, and you narrow your eyes at them across the room.

“Silent auctions are so overdone. We need something newer, something more exciting for the donors.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your gaze fixed on them. “Silent auctions bring in a lot of money, which is kind of the point. And it’s not about excitement, it’s about class.”

Jordan smirks. “Class doesn’t have to be boring.”

The tension is palpable, and Brink’s eyes dart between the two of you, clearly amused by the back-and-forth. “Why don’t you both try to combine your ideas? Maybe add something 'exciting' to the silent auction?”

“Fine,” You say through gritted teeth, glaring at Jordan. “How about... We let people bid on experiences instead of items? Like a day with a famous supe, or… A tour of a Vought movie set.” 

Jordan nods slowly, almost as if they’re surprised by the suggestion. “That could work…”

You share a brief, almost reluctant, moment of agreement before the tension returns, both of you battling for Brink’s approval over the smaller details still left to work out.

A week later, the day of the fundraiser finally arrives, and you find yourself swept away in organizing the final details right up until the event begins. The halls of Godolkin are flooded by well-dressed snobs, both supe and human alike, and you lose yourself amongst the crowd, ensuring everything runs as smoothly as possible.

You find yourself in an outfit entirely out of your comfort zone, both fitting the upscale theming of the event, as well as highlighting your best features. You can thank Emma and Marie for this one — they'd practically squealed when you'd tried it on, insisting you buy it. You’ve received more than a few compliments, but the one person whose approval you’re secretly hoping for has also been lost to the crowd, and you haven't managed to spot them yet.

You finally find a moment to duck out as Brinkerhoff takes over and starts the auction, and you find yourself slipping outside, needing a moment to breathe after the chaos. The cool night air is a welcome relief, and you lean against the brick wall to catch your breath.

There's a shift in the atmosphere, the subtle awareness that comes when someone’s eyes are on you. You turn your head and your eyes fall on Jordan, standing near the entrance, their dark gaze locked on you.

For the barest of moments, they remain frozen, eyes widened slightly — your heart stutters a beat when you notice the way they're taking in the sight of you, something dark and admiring in their gaze.

A flush of warmth spreads through you like wildfire, paired with a simmering satisfaction at knowing that you've caught the untouchable Jordan Li off guard, and even rendered them speechless. They make a quick recovery, but the way they begin to approach you feels — different. Changed.

"You... You look good." They swallow, nodding as they approach you, and your lips twist into a smile at their awkwardness. You can't blame them, though, as your mouth dries out when you get a good look at them in a tailored suit, dark and figure-hugging, with a dangerous plunge in the front.

“You too." You nod, attempting and failing to recover smoothly. "Came to gloat?" It's easier to slip into your well-worn rivalry, and after Brink celebrated Jordan in front of most of the party earlier tonight, you figured they'd be feeling rather smug about finally winning over you in a way that mattered.

“Actually, no.” They say, gaze falling to the floor, voice unusually soft. "I don't think that was fair — and also, to say, well. Thank you. This went off without a hitch, and... That's because of you. It's been... Good to work with you."

You blink, entirely taken aback by the compliment. “I mean, we both made it happen,” You admit, glancing at them. “You had some good ideas too.” You throw in a tease at the end, for good measure.

They huff out a laugh, their gaze coming back up to meet yours, an unexpected intensity there, before they take a casual step closer. “You always have to get the last word in, don't you?"

"Someone's gotta keep you humble." You retort, cheeks flushing as they step even closer, and they roll their eyes dramatically.

"If you would just listen for a moment..." Another step, and your breath hitches entirely. "I've enjoyed spending time with you. Even if you're a pain in the ass sometimes."

Despite the rising intensity between you, you find yourself retorting anyway. "I'm a pain in the ass? What about all the times you—" They raise an eyebrow, and your brain seems to finally catch up, noting that they are now standing barely two feet in front of you.

“Christ, rookie, you ever gonna let me finish?” Jordan curses, eyebrow raised, stepping even closer into your space, and your breath hitches as you fully catch on.

“Oh- oh.”

“Oh.” They mimic, dragging their hand up your side to rest on your hip.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Their voice is barely more than a whisper as they lean in, and you nod, unwilling to risk ruining this. "Yes, you're a pain in the ass," They mutter, their voice low. "But I've been an idiot as well."

"How so?" You utter, heart still stuttering in your chest as you glance between their eyes and their lips. Your line of sight doesn't go unnoticed, and Jordan's lips tug into a knowing smirk.

Jordan's dark eyes drop to the ground for a moment, smirk dropping as they tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. “I think I’ve been using this... Rivalry, or whatever, as an excuse to keep my distance from you."

At this, your brows furrow, still intensely aware of their hand on your hip and your proximity to each other, but their words confuse you. "Why do you need an excuse to keep your distance from me?"

A scoff from their lips. "Jesus, you are gonna make me spell it out. Well... Because I wasn’t sure how to deal with how I feel about you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the realization hits. “How you feel about me?”

Jordan nods, their expression softening. "I've never liked someone this much, and you act like you wish I would drop off the face of the planet half the time, and.... Well, it’s been driving me crazy..”

You stare at them, trying to process what you’ve just heard. You can practically hear Marie and Emma screaming in your ear "I told you so!", after you've spent your whole time at Godolkin pining for someone you thought you'd never have a chance with, only to prove they've been doing the same thing.

“We're both fucking idiots." You confirm, a breathy laugh escaping your lips, your hand coming up to hover in front of your mouth incredulously.

Jordan chuckles, the sound light and genuine, their eyebrows raising as they take in your reaction. “Does this mean you don't actually hate —”

Before they can finish, you close the narrow distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest as your lips seal against theirs. It’s excited and awkward and tentative at first, but when Jordan responds by deepening the kiss, the tension between you melts away and you find yourself wrapping your arms around their neck, pressing your body into them as months of heated exchanges come to a culmination.

When you finally pull back for breath, the two of you panting softly, still enveloped in each other's arms, you let out a soft laugh that Jordan echoes.

“Guess we were both wrong.” They utter, leaning down to seal their lips against yours again briefly, their eyes shining with something new, something real. “And I guess this was a good time for me to have been wrong for the first time ever.”

You laugh out loud, shoving at their shoulder, feeling weightless in this moment.

Your phone pings in your pocket, and you sigh, reluctantly pulling it from a hidden pocket in your outfit — believe it or not, you're still technically at your job, and if Brink needs you, you need to be available. "Sorry." You utter to Jordan, before opening the text you'd received and gasping.

"Motherfucker!" Your head whips around to glare into the darkness, bright screen of your phone illuminated by a blurry photo of you and Jordan mid-kiss, sent by Marie in your groupchat.

The text underneath from Emma reads simply,

'Called it!'

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽️

VERSION VIII.

(a/n: dropping 3 eps cause i was gone for like half a month, so enjoy this holy trinity 🤌 thank you for your support 🫶)

Warning-none

wc: 1k

ALSO: tags @ttheggrimrreaper ✌️

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…69, Karasu Tabito.”

Smirking at his jersey number, you instinctively glanced around, wondering if anyone else had found it just as amusing. But as your eyes swept the room, it quickly became clear—everyone was far too anxious to notice such details unlike your brilliant self, of course.

Taking a closer look at the guy, you memorized his most prominent features, making a little note to yourself to find someone with an oddly specific hairstyle and a cute mole under his left eye.

Exiting the room, you followed the signs leading to Anri, who handed you some documents before sending you off to find your partner.

Imagine being Karasu Tabito’s manager, known as the assassin.

——————

Karasu Tabito, who moved on the field like he was flying, the ball looking like a feather on his foot. You, amazed by his movements, quietly stood near the benches until the whistle blew, indicating a break for the boys. Snapping back to reality, you jogged up to him with a warm smile across your lips, introducing yourself. Raising a brow, he did the same, his gaze sharp, yet curious.

“So, yer my new manager, huh?” he asked again, still unsure 'cause you looked too lovely to be assigned to him. Maybe Yukimiya was the lucky bastard?

“Yup. Somehow managed to get myself a nice player.” you cracked a smile, trying to break the awkwardness. He smirked at your response before initiating another conversation.

——————

•Karasu who clicks with you immediately. The conversations flow smoothly, and getting to know each other seems to be the easiest task for you yet. (he analyzed you waaay before you spoke to him)

•Fun fact, the first thing he requested from you was better hair wax saying the one in the facility makes his ends split. :)

•He also has the ability to remember the most trivial details that you have shared with him about yourself—something he gladly takes advantage of, either to tease the hell out of you or simply make you flustered by casually bringing them up.

•Extremely attentive, and always notices if you’re struggling. He’ll also offer help with paperwork if needed. Other times, he prefers to yap or test your patience by hiding your pens, reading aloud or giving unwanted comments.

•Karasu, who’s sometimes waaay too relaxed for his own good, yet he has never once made you scold him for anything important. He likes to arrive just on time for practice, only to complain about training all while flawlessly following the instructions, and if there’s any competition—be it big or small—he will make sure to be in the top 3.

•Also, petnames. Not the flirty ones, but something like “boss” or “shortie” that makes your eyes roll from the amount of time he uses them. He’s pretty clingy as well, following you around all day, and if anyone tries to disrespect you, they gotta deal with him first.

•Karasu is the king of reassurance. If he sees you comparing yourself to other managers, he will stop whatever he’s doing to give you a motivational speech. Rare moments of him being sentimental, where he makes you repeat over and over that ‘he wouldn’t be here without you’ or ‘don’t you dare switch to other players’.

•Has a lot of respect for you as well. The way you always put him first, making sure he’s alive and breathing. The fact that you can keep up with him is impressive too, and he’ll never admit it, but he’s been amused since day 1.

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Karasu takes training more seriously—not that he never did—just that he’s now putting in more effort and energy than before. Pushes himself harder than ever, yet he still doesn’t let you work overtime.

•Has a habit of pushing your laptop closed or simply snatching your clipboard out from your hands, if he sees you staying up later than usual.

•He’s also more engaged in the analyzing, actually taking notes and listening to your opinions before asking questions and such.

•Karasu will never miss a chance to tell you “yer messy hair is funny” or pat you on the head when you’re angry saying “relax manager-san, i’m sorry ‘kay? forgive me please, ‘cause anger will stop yer growth at this rate”

•Tutoring him is like gambling—there’s a 50% chance of him actually paying attention and doing what you said, or he will lazily finish half of the exercises you give him before he passes out on the table. Weirdly good at guessing which nouns are feminine or masculine.

•Loves to listen to your voice thanks to his fetish, so don’t even try to give him a textbook to read. Won’t work unless you read it for him like it’s daycare, while he lays on his arm, looking up to you, admiring every inch of your face.

•Interviews with him are a pain in the ass. Loves to sarcastically answer questions making you groan in the background. Karasu also never fails to appreciate you at least once in every interview he does, talking about how hardworking and supportive you are.

•Working with him means throwing insults and arguing about who’s smarter, but physical touch isn’t rare. Karasu has a habit of casually throwing his arm on your shoulders during break, laying his head on top of yours for support, or making you piggy back him back to his room.

•He’s very proud of you and will fight with anyone who thinks their manager is better. He also knows your schedule by heart, favorite snacks already on your desk when it’s a long day with a small note that says

“oi, am I the player or your manager? get some sleep”

•Karasu, who is fiercely loyal to you—granting privileges such as bossing him around, make him worry about your health, and be able witness his rare waxless hair. Switching managers? Not a chance. You’re stuck with him for life.

“Yer the one and only person I’m capable to work with”

[cxrdycxps]

And They Were Room Mates • Abby Anderson

☢️ Owen and Mel bashing • pwp basically • reader really enjoys giving Abby head • pussy worship babyyyy • swearing • talking about masturbation ☢️

Main Masterlist • Abby Anderson Masterlist

Your bedroom door opened and Abby slammed it shut behind her, stalking forward to collapse on your bed. You pushed your headphones off and put the lid back on your highlighter. “Hi Abby, how are you? Would you like to come into my room, Abby? Make yourself comfortable.”

Abby grabbed your soft pillow and shoved her face into it and screamed. You stared at her in horror when she took a deep breath and screamed again. “Should I call a priest? Do we need an excorcist?”

“You need to stop humping your fucking pillows. I can smell your cunt on this one.” You stared at Abby when she tossed your pillow away and turned over to stare at your ceiling.

“Firstly, it’s my pillow. I’ll do what I want with it. Secondly, how the fuck do you know what any part of me smells like?” You snapped at her, mortified by her comments. “Get the fuck out and scream into your own pillows.”

“Mel is pregnant.” You stared at her, still off balance from her earlier comments. You weren’t sure why her best friend being pregnant was such a scream worthy event. Or why it resulted in her coming in to bully you in your own room. “It’s Owen’s.”

“Oh fuck.” You couldn’t stop yourself. You covered your mouth once the words were out but Abby was already staring at you, nodding her head.

“Yeah. He fucked her on our three day break.” Abby laughed bitterly and you stood from your desk to sit on the edge of the bed, taking one of her large hands in yours to console her. “Well, he fucked her for our three day break. Then decided he missed me.”

“To be fair, Mel’s a whiny bitch. I wouldn’t have chosen her over you either.” You told her honestly and she rolled her eyes at you. “And it may be personal opinion but you are hotter than her.”

You lived with Abby in shared accommodation just off campus. She had lived here with her friend Manny last year but he had graduated so she had posted the listing. You had been desperate to escape on campus accommodation and jumped at the chance to live in an apartment with your own bedroom and bathroom.

Neither of you crossed paths often, usually coming and going at complete opposite times. She woke early to go to the gym, you worked late at a bar down town. You both had classes all day and she spent a lot of time in Owen’s apartment.

You had moments like this. Pockets of overlap where you found time to get to know each other. You had met her friend group in passing, she had met yours. You had met Owen, she had accidentally met one or two of the girls you had hooked up with in the past while they left the next morning.

You had accidentally propositioned her while drunk once. It was a long running joke at this point.

“You only want me for my body.” Abby sighed and you shrugged, laying back beside her so you were both staring at the ceiling. “My best fucking friend.”

“You should probably get a new one of those. I’ll be your best friend. I’m pretty cool.” You assured her, nudging her shoulder with yours. “I can be your best fucking friend, too. You just have to take me up on my offer.”

“What do you- oh. Best fucking friend. I get it. Smart.” She huffed a dry laugh while you giggled at yourself. “They barely ever even talked!”

“Maybe for good reason?” You asked and she turned so she was looking at you. You copied her and your faces were only a couple of inches apart. “Maybe he wanted to dick her down since day one.”

“You’re not helping.” Abby turned back to stare at the ceiling and you shrugged.

“If I’m being honest, I get why you’re mad or whatever. I just think it’s a waste of your energy. Mel has the personality of the contents of the bottom of the sink after the dishes have been done. Owen micromanaged you and you let him. What are you actually loosing?” Abby probably didn’t want you to be honest but you didn’t typically have another session. “The sex didn’t even sound good.”

“Better than your pillow.” Abby quipped back and you laughed.

“My pillow made me cum every time. Can you say the same for Owen?” You asked her and she grunted in answer which made you laugh, the bed shaking with your movements. “What were you actually getting out of the relationship?”

“He was there for me. When my dad died.” Abby told you and you sighed heavily, clasping her hand in yours. “He got me through that.”

“So he’s not a complete waste of space. People outgrow each other, Abs.” You told her quietly. “You outgrew him a long time ago.”

“I’ve been with him since I was fourteen. How do I let go of seven years?” She asked with a sigh and you shrugged. In truth, you had no clue.

“Go out and fuck someone else. Get a new hobby? Maybe egg his house. Or her house. Or just egg something.” Abby laughed wetly. You didn’t look at her, not closely. She needed a moment so you let her have it. “You can borrow my pillow?”

///

“Got someone looking for you out front.” You were stood in the kitchen, attempting to eat quickly while chatting to the grouchy head chef. Joel didn’t really say much but you knew he had a soft spot for you. He had even tried to set you up with his daughter once. He always made sure to set something aside for you to eat.

“Tell ‘em to fuck off.” You snapped and Joel coughed to disguise his laugh. Dina, Joel’s daughter’s current girlfriend, threw her hands up.

“Do I look like a fucking messenger girl? Get back out on the bar anyway, Jesse is drowning out there.” Jesse, Dina’s ex boyfriend, worked the bar with you most nights. He was a shit bartended though and you ended up doing double the work.

“You ever think about how incestuous this restaurant staff is?” You asked Joel, shoving the last few fries into your mouth. Tess, the line cook, laughed at you and you narrowed your eyes at her. “I know you two have been fucking in the store room.”

Joel barked your name when Tess ducked her head and you skipped out of the kitchen, returning to the bar to find it was three deep. You sighed, tying your apron and pasting on a smile.

“You should fucking quit.” You elbowed Jesse who only shrugged at you, pouring drinks. You waved at people to start shouting orders at you, checking ID along with starting tabs.

By the time the rush had moved off you found your caller sitting at the end of the bar. Abby was nursing a beer, two shots of tequila next to her with all the fixings.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” You asked her with a grin. She looked up from her phone and blinked at you before gesturing to the shots. “For me?”

“It’s sad doing them alone and I need some courage.” She told you honestly and you tilted your head. “Time to get back out there, right?”

It had been two months since she came to your room to scream and you had been worried about how well she was handling everything. This was a good sign.

You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled the salt over the wet patch. Abby copied you and you held up your shot to her. “To you getting your pussy ate.”

She didn’t repeat the cheers, rolling her eyes. She did drink though and you took that as a good sign while sucking on the wedge of lime. You looked up when your name was called and found Maria, the manager on tonight, glaring at you. “She bought it for me. It’s good customer service, Maria.”

“Get back to work.” You gestured around to remind her that you were in fact behind the bar, no current customers in sight. She narrowed her eyes at you and moved off to complain about you to the servers. Dina would agree cause she didn’t like that you had fucked Ellie, Joel’s daughter, before she had. She also was Maria’s favorite because she was Ellie’s aunt.

The whole system made your head hurt and you swigged from Abby’s beer to chase the flavor of the tequila on your tongue. “Don’t fucking backwash.”

“Come on, Abby. Admit it, you wanna swap bodily fluids with me.” You leaned forward on the bar and her eyes dipped to look down your blouse. You always left it one button too low to increase tips. “Abby Anderson, are you looking at my tits?”

“You know I am. Hard not to when they’re as good as in my face.” Abby sighed and you grinned, delighted with her honesty. “Don’t worry, I’ll tip well.”

“You know what, Anderson?” You asked her. You looked up when a customer shouted an order at you and you took the lid off the beer sliding it over to him. “If you strike out tonight, I’ll eat your pussy myself.”

You left Abby to consider your words when the next wave began and you dove into the fray to serve them. When you looked back she was gone, a signed receipt and a tip tucked under her beer mat. You laughed and cleared her bottle and pocketed the tip.

///

When you got back to the apartment you were surprised to find Abby still up, sitting on the sofa. With the television playing. You kicked off your shoes and swung by the kitchen, grabbing yourself and her a beer.

“You cleared out early.” You remarked, tossing yourself down next to her on the cushions. You held both beers out and scrunched your eyes shut when she opened them with her teeth. “Strike out?”

“Got a better offer.” She answered and you let your head fall to the side so you could look at her. “Why would I hang around when you already made me a promise?”

“What promise was that, Abby?” You asked her with a sly smile. Abby rarely swore unless she was really worked up and you wanted to set her on edge.

“You know what you promised.” Abby huffed, cheeks pink. You stared at her and brought your bottle up to your lips, taking a long drink. You didn’t speak and she began to fidget. “If you weren’t serious then-”

“Abby, I’ve wanted a taste of you since like thirty seconds after signing the lease.” You laughed and she turned a darker red in her cheeks. The color was creeping down towards her neck. “I’ve literally dreamed about having your thighs either side of my head.”

“You’re such a fucking-” Abby shook her head but you only grinned at her frustration. She hadn’t been with women before, you knew that much. She had realized she was interested in them when she started college but she had loved Owen.

You rolled your eyes and handed her your bottle. You stretched your arms up in the air and shook off the exhaustion of your late shift before standing and moving kneel between Abby’s spread legs. “Time to let me see what’s under these cargos and by the way, if it looks like I’m suffocating? Leave me there. Death by your pussy is such a good way to go.”

Abby was laughing now, too used to your humor to be embarrassed anymore. You helped unbutton her trousers and pull them down. You paused and swallowed, wondering why the simple boxers under her cargos made your own pussy pulse in arousal. Why did her thick thighs look so much hotter than any other woman you had ever been with?

“Later, once you recover from the orgasm I’m about to give you, I’m riding your thigh. I don’t even care if this is a one time thing. I need to experience that.” You babbled, pulling on the hem of her boxer shorts and finally exposing her to you.

“Oh fuck.” You breathed, closing your eyes for a moment. Abby Anderson ticked all your boxes but right now it was like she had read every deep thought you’d ever had. You were the first to advocate for people grooming themselves however they deemed fit but the patch of coarse curls that you had just uncovered made you groan.

Abby had a fat cunt, something you could bury your face in. You spread her thighs with your palms and leaned forward, licking up her slit to find her clit. It was swollen with arousal but when you pulled back you could see the raw abuse on it. “You’ve been playing with yourself.”

Abby groaned, her head back against the couch. Some of her embarrassment was returning as she arched her hips upwards to you. “Tell me you were playing with your clit while thinking of me.”

“Obviously,” Abby grunted and you rewarded her with a firm suck to the sensitive bundle of nerve endings. She moaned and you were proud to note you’d never heard that noise coming from her room when her and Owen had fucked. Quiet as they had tried to be. “Had to take the edge off after watching you in the bar. You’re so fucking competent, bouncing around with your tits out.”

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to spit against her clit and listened to her moans to let you know what she enjoyed. You pulled her thighs and she shuffled out to the edge of the sofa, her fingers grasping at your hair.

It was when you were licking into her, your nose against her clit, that the door opened. The pair of you froze, directly in the sight line of Owen who stood at the door. “Abby, what the fuck?”

It seemed like a private conversation so you looked away, nudging your nose against her clit again. She moaned, her head back against the sofa. “Leave the key.”

You hummed against her hole and her fingers tightened against you. Owen tossed the keys on the entry way table and retreated. You pulled away to call out to him. “If you wait a minute or so you can hear what it sounds like when Abby actually cums.” He slammed the door and Abby’s hoarse laugh was cut off when you returned your attention to her clit.

You used your tongue to push back the clitoral hood and pay special attention to the most sensitive part of her. The almost red skin contracted when you licked at it firmly and Abby lost all pretenses, an actual scream falling from her mouth when she came.

You kind of hoped he was still listening.

[spiritualitygeek]

PAC Reading | 2025 Prediction

Disclaimer: This is a general reading intended for entertainment purposes only. The insights provided are not definitive predictions, as your choices and actions constantly shape your reality. This reading reflects potential outcomes based on your current energy and should not be used as the sole basis for significant decisions, including those related to health, finances, or life-changing matters. Please use your own judgment and seek professional advice when necessary. I am not responsible for any decisions made based on this reading.

Pile 1

Cards: 5oW, PoW(X) and QoW

Signs: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Are you lost, babygirl? Haha, I had to keep that in because it truly fits the energy of your reading.

Your year started with the energy of 5 of Wands, and oh boy, you were in the thick of it!

Scrambling, competing, proving, pushing—whether it was career, relationships, or just proving your worth to yourself, you were in that hyper-masculine "go, go, go" mode. And while that fire helped you move forward, it also drained you. There may have been conflicts, inner or outer, and a feeling of "I need to win at all costs." But did you ever pause to ask, win what exactly?

Now, we’re in the Page of Wands reversed phase. And honestly? You're tired. It’s that feeling of I used to be excited about this… so why am I not anymore? The spark feels dimmed. Maybe you're questioning your path, your motivation, your direction. Maybe you’re even a little bored or uninspired. And let me tell you, that's okay. This is your soul telling you to slow down. Instead of forcing yourself to “figure it out,” take this as a cosmic permission slip to simply be. Go on solo dates. Reconnect with hobbies that don’t have a purpose beyond joy. Let go of the need to prove yourself. Because, babygirl, you already are enough.

And then—boom! By the end of the year, you step into Queen of Wands energy.

Now we're talking!

You’re no longer chasing; you're attracting. You’ve shifted from desperate action to inspired action. From pushing to flowing. From proving to owning. Your feminine energy is activated, and with it, your confidence, magnetism, and ease. Things start aligning for you because you’re no longer in resistance. You’re radiating that main character energy, and trust me, people will notice.

The biggest lesson here? You don’t have to exhaust yourself to get what you want. Resting, believing, and taking aligned steps will get you further than forcing things ever did. You’re stepping into a version of yourself that knows their worth, stands in their power, and lets the universe meet them halfway.

So breathe, relax, and trust the process. It's already done!

Pile 2

Cards: Knight oP, QoP, 6oS

Signs: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, Aries, Libra

OMG, Pile 2! I am absolutely loving your energy—it’s so grounded, so determined. It’s giving "I’ve got a plan, and I’m sticking to it!" I’m getting strong vibes of working toward a goal that sets you free—whether that’s moving out, becoming independent, leaving a relationship that no longer serves you, or upskilling for a better job. Whatever it is, you’re in it for the long haul, and you’re not about to half-ass it.

You stepped into 2025 with Knight of Pentacles energy. This is the card of slow, steady, and disciplined work. You’re not rushing things, you’re not being reckless—you’ve got a goal, and you’re making consistent moves toward it. It might have felt tedious at times, like you’re putting in all this effort without immediate results, but the Knight doesn’t care about instant gratification. He’s in it for real, lasting success. And so are you.

Now, with your current energy as the Queen of Pentacles, I can tell you’re doing amazing, sweetie. You’ve leveled up. You’ve found your rhythm, your stability. You’re not just grinding mindlessly—you’re also nurturing yourself, balancing work with self-care, and actually enjoying the process. That’s the secret sauce! Instead of obsessing over what’s wrong or what you don’t want, you’re choosing to focus on what you do want. And let me tell you, that mindset shift? Powerful. You’re sitting on your throne, secure in yourself, radiating grace and abundance. You’re a Queen indeed.

And here’s the best part—by the end of the year, we’ve got the Six of Swords. And oh boy, this is the card of moving forward. Whatever you’ve been working toward, whatever you’ve been patiently building, you’re finally making that transition. Whether it’s literally packing your bags and leaving, cutting ties with a situation that no longer serves you, or stepping into a new career, it’s happening. The storm is behind you, and you’re sailing toward calmer waters.

My only request is, please keep this energy up. Stay patient, stay steady, and trust that all your efforts are leading you exactly where you need to be. You’re not just dreaming about change—you’re making it happen. And by the end of 2025, you’ll look back and realize just how far you’ve come.

Pile 3

Cards: Temperance, KoW, Strength

Signs: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces, Sagittarius

Pile 3, you mystical, radiant souls. If I could reach through this reading and give you the tightest, most heartfelt hug, I would. Because wow—you are something special.

You’re my sages, my old souls. You’ve been through the fire, walked through darkness, and yet here you are, not just standing but shining. There’s something so deeply healing about your energy, something that touches people without you even trying. Maybe that’s your purpose—to inspire, to uplift, to simply be a presence that makes the world feel a little less heavy.

You entered 2025 with Temperance—the card of balance, patience, and divine wisdom. This tells me you’ve already done the deep work. You’ve faced your shadows, healed wounds that once defined you, and reached a place of profound self-awareness. You’ve unlearned the limiting beliefs that held you back, shed layers of conditioning, and embraced a path of inner mastery. You don’t react impulsively anymore; you respond with wisdom. There’s a beautiful, almost ethereal peace to you—like you’ve made friends with time itself, knowing that everything unfolds exactly as it should.

And now? Now you’re stepping into the King of Wands energy. Confidence. Vision. Purpose. You’re no longer just existing; you’re leading. Maybe you don’t even realize how magnetic you are, how people naturally look up to you, seek your guidance, and feel safe in your presence. You might be highly spiritual, or maybe you’ve found a way to balance your spiritual depth with the practical world effortlessly. You’re the kind of person who walks into a room and commands attention without even trying. But the best part? You’ve recently learned to protect your energy. No more giving endlessly to energy vampires. No more overextending yourself. You’re choosing where and how you shine, and that’s a power move.

By the end of 2025, with Strength, I see you reaching a level of mastery—not just of survival, but of living. This isn’t just physical strength (though for some of you, it could be a focus on health and vitality). This is inner strength. Emotional resilience. The kind of peace that comes from knowing that nothing outside of you can shake you anymore. You’re stepping into a level of enlightenment that most people spend lifetimes chasing.

I'm sorry if I fangirled a bit too much. Tbh, I don't feel qualified enough to be doing a reading for you, Pile 3. You seem to know and understand it all already. You're so intuitive and wise. TT

Pile 4

Cards: the chariot, death(X), 2oP

Signs: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Scorpio

Pile 4, my warriors in disguise.

I feel like shaking your shoulders gently and saying, "Wake up, love! You’re so much stronger than you think!" Because you are. But right now? You might not be acting like it.

You entered 2025 with The Chariot—bold, determined, full speed ahead. At some point, you had a clear goal, a destination in mind. You were ready to take charge, to move, to break free. But somewhere along the way, something happened. Maybe fear crept in. Maybe doubt whispered in your ear. And now, with Death in Reverse, you’re resisting the very change you once craved.

Let’s be real—you know deep down that something in your life isn’t serving you anymore. It could be a job, a relationship, a mindset, a habit—something is dead weight, but you’re still carrying it. And the craziest part? It’s not even that you want it anymore. It’s that you’re more afraid of the unknown than you are of staying stuck. It’s like a type of emotional masochism—you’re comfortable in discomfort. You’re focusing more on what you don’t want than on what you do.

But here’s the thing: The universe doesn’t respond to hesitation. It responds to clarity. If you keep focusing on fear, you’ll manifest more of it. If you keep thinking about what you don’t want, you’ll keep getting exactly that. It’s time to flip the script.

By the end of the year, we have the Two of Pentacles—which tells me that, whether you like it or not, life is going to force you to juggle your choices. You can’t stay in limbo forever. You’ll either have to adapt or let go, but either way, movement is coming. So, why not take the reins now? Why not be the one who decides instead of waiting for the universe to shake things up for you?

You started this year with The Chariot—that drive, that hunger is still inside you. You just have to believe in it again. Let go. Say yes to what excites you, not what scares you. Because the only way forward is through. And trust me, you were built for this journey.

Pile 5

Cards: PoS(X), Emperor, 5oP

My dear Pile 5, I know you feel like you’re not good enough. Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. Not enough in general. And I know you look around and think, "Everyone else has it figured out. Everyone else is so sure of themselves. Why can’t I be like that?"

But let me let you in on a little secret: most people in this world have absolutely no idea what the hell they’re doing. They just act like they do. They follow the crowd, go through the motions, and convince themselves they’re wise, all-knowing, and superior. But deep down? They’re just as lost as you are. The difference is, they fake it better.

Right now, you’re in The Emperor energy, and that’s actually a good thing. It means you’re not a quitter. You refuse to let life knock you down permanently. Even when you feel lost, you keep pushing forward. You keep redirecting yourself, trying to grab onto something—anything—that gives you a sense of control. That’s the thing about The Emperor. He needs structure, stability, a plan. And when things feel shaky, he tightens his grip even harder. That’s you right now—holding on, trying to make sense of everything, trying to create order in the chaos.

But here’s the part I need you to prepare for: Five of Pentacles at the end of the year.

I see you hitting rock bottom—or at least, feeling like you are. Maybe it’s burnout. Maybe it’s rejection. Maybe it’s just that overwhelming sense of, "I’ve done everything I can, and it still wasn’t enough." You might feel abandoned, like life is leaving you out in the cold. Like all your work, all your effort, all your struggle was in vain.

But listen to me. Do not let your insecurities hold you back.

Let me tell you a little story.

A guy once flirted with me. He was sweet, charming—I started liking him. But then, like any overthinker with internet access, I went through his followers list. I saw all these girls—prettier than me, more popular than me, seemingly better than me. And suddenly, my confidence shattered. I started acting weird, second-guessing everything. And guess what? He changed too. He started pulling away. What changed? Not him. Me. My insecurities drove him away before he even had a chance to make a real choice.

That’s the danger of self-doubt. It warps reality. It makes you sabotage things before they even have a chance to bloom.

And another story—this one about my career.

I got rejected. Not once. Not twice. Multiple times. My hard work was dismissed, overlooked, shut down. I could’ve taken that as a sign to stop. To quit. To believe I wasn’t good enough. But I didn’t. I kept going. And now? I have multiple contracts under my name, multiple projects. I made more money than I ever would have from the things that rejected me.

So tell me—was it my loss? Or theirs?

Had I given up, had I let my insecurities win, I wouldn’t be where I am today. And neither will you.

Pile 5, persevere. Even when it feels pointless. Even when you’re tired. Even when you think you’re not good enough. Because the truth is—you are. You just have to believe it before the world does.

I hope this PAC reached the people who needed to hear these messages and that they resonated with you. You're more than welcomed to write me your feedback if the readings resonate and help you in any way. I'll be more than glad to hear from you.

Also, if you’d like to stay updated on future PACs or personal readings, make sure to follow me! You can DM me for paid readings, or if you prefer, keep an eye out—I occasionally offer free personal readings as well.

Thank you!

- Love, Snow <3

[rosesdrop]

Pick a weapon

What do they like about you

(Note: remember, this is a general reading so not everything is going to resonate perfectly, I might open personal reading services later, but for now, enjoy your reading ⭐❤💞)

Pile 1:

You have such luminous skin, there's possibly an age gap between you and this person, they like your resting bitch face, and how stubborn you are, such a gloomy mood that gives off adam's family and these sorts of gothic vibes, you've got sleepy eyes that are mesmerizing, and such a hard temperament, you're hard to please in this person's eyes, you make them so overwhelmed with all the kinds of moods that you carry within you, it makes this person have a hard time understanding you, you are always trying new things and it's just too much for this person, they have no idea where you get all this energy from. It could even be that you're from a different ethnicity and this person tries to understand you better, it makes them curious about you and they like it. Even when you talk it's too hard catching up with you, you're so expansive about all the topics in your conversation, you like to discuss all kinds of different subjects, this person adores that, they see how philosophical you are. They don't understand your mind, they're having such a hard time figuring you out pile 1 😂, it's such a struggle they're trying so hard, but they like it, the fact that you are bigger than the sun itself, how much you can overwhelm them and they get so burned out by your energy(I don't mean it in a negative way), the fact that you're not a force to be wreckend with. They just feel like you're too much for them to handle. You're most likely either a fire or an air sign. They mainly like your mood states , your emotional and temperamental center, it's so dramatic and entertaining. Your effect is just fatal on them, you're even making them have physical reactions upon how charged up they get around you, the reason for that could be that you have expansive energetic field, some of you could also have bigger and more curvier bodies. An additional message that I'm getting is that you get influenced by the moon cycles, you possibly get more energetic and lively that normal at night.

Pile 2:

You are very graceful in the way you talk, you may be sending blessings to people around you constantly and praying for others. They like your beauty, they find you to be just 'pretty'. They also like how wise you are, if you wear dresses this person likes seeing them on you, you are maybe on the shorter side and they find your height to be cute. Earth signs. They like how courageous you are, you can be so calm and steady when facing adversities and they find this so strong from you, you are the type of person that has a silent strength to them. You are so solid , so sure of yourself that it's hard to shake you. You always have the right sense of what to do. They like your smell, if you wear some kind of perfume they really like the smell of it. You could always be scoring the highest grades at any work you do, you're always so productive, and if you like cooking, you make the best food ever. This person sees you as self-reliant and self-sufficient, someone that doesn't like wasting much time on nonesense, and a person that keeps to themselves, and again, that makes them see you as very smart and wise.

Pile 3:

They like how sensitive you are to the environment around you, and how overly critical you are of everything, you might like crime movies that awaken your investigator side, to find clues and solve riddles. If you have green eyes specifically they like them, also how you put on your makeup. You're unapologetic in everything you do, you do whatever you want to do anyways, they're fascinated by that, it's like, you give the sense that you are elusive about what you want to do, especially the way you act about things, but you surprise them with the results, you may seem like you're just playing around at first impression but then this person gets impressed by the things you can achieve. You don't ask much from people. You're very unpredictable to this person, they think that you're a lucky and special person, unlike anyone else they've ever known.

Pile 4:

You're older than this person, or they like your maturity. They like how friendly you are, you give off this sense of familiarity to them and they feel welcomed and well treated in your presence and they respect you for that. You have an inspirational impact on this person, they take your words to heart, and they resonate with them, they give them space for creative pursuits and create space for new ideas in their mentality. If this person felt misunderstood and lost in the past you give them a new vision, a better one. The color black and gothic type of clothing fits you in their view, they think you're aloof and eccentric, you have a sharp mind but your ideas for them-they have a hard time organizing every thought proposed by you according to the actual situation, your thinking is superior for them.

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING SNEAKY !!! LEWIS H. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: lewis was known for his year-end parties. the grid would be shocked to find out what else he was known for.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, lewis and reader on their sneaky link behaviour, p in v penetration, doggy or whatever pierre said, filthy, dom!lewis energy, fucking in a club bathroom vibes, utter nonsense— just lewis being filthy as fuck, drivers being drunk (max, charles and lando), bit of a twist at the end but not really???

rec music: disco tits by tove lo

note: shout out to @daaiissyyyyy for listening to my recent fever ramble at 11 pm— she gave me the thought to write for lewis after giving this music prompt eheh. i’m sick of sf23 and w14 so now i’m just writing ✨fuckall✨ enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

lewis was known for a lot of things: his sense of fashion, desire to make panty-dropping songs, his impressive record in formula one and of course…

the extravagant parties that never failed to live up to everyone’s expectations. 

now this was the first time he’s hosted a big party in his new york penthouse since his previous championship win before covid — 2019.

and 2023 was the most frustrating season for most drivers and lewis hamilton wasn’t an exception to that; after all, most teams splurged as much money as red bull did with their cars yet the crown was handed over to max and the austrian team in a gold plate. 

because of the same results every year, the brit couldn’t find himself to care much about it anymore.

instead, after the abu dhabi race he texted the group chat and invited them over for a party he was going to host after the prize giving ceremony. 

yet, when the drivers came over to his penthouse with their girlfriends and their peers — the host was found nowhere in sight. 

tove lo’s music boomed loudly as sweaty bodies hit the dance floor. the world champion - max verstappen - was chatting with the ferraris and lando about whatever the fuck he was planning to do during the break. most drivers were dancing and drinking. 

yet, amongst the sea of intoxicated and desperate people, none of them were lewis.

he was known for his parties. but what they didn’t know was that his parties were nothing but excuses to feel the adrenaline rush pump through his bloodstream without taking the drugs for it.

because he was upstairs in his room, thick cock spearing inside someone’s cunt as the woman screamed silently. her manicured nails clutching the sheets under her as drool escaped her mouth, her head down while her ass was arched up. 

lewis grunted as he lustfully traced down her spine and smacked her ass. “god, fuck! such a good pussy, doll.” 

“lew- lewis, fuck,” she cursed him in a foreign language that he couldn’t care to understand, her eyes rolling back as he continued to fuck her from behind. “i feel so full, oh~ god~ yes- yes- keep fucking me like that.”

“like this?” she let out a pitiful whine when he moved and roughly hit her sensitive spot with his cock.

her head was pushed against the mattress as she whined, his cock rubbing against the spot repeatedly while she inaudibly babbled. 

he demanded firmly, “you gotta tell me how do i fuck you, baby, otherwise i’m not gonna—“

“—fuck! yes, keep hitting that spot please,” she cried out, tears threatening fall from the pleasure she felt. 

in the moment of grunting and whining, no one downstairs could hear them as they fucked like rabbits in heat. thank god for the party that lewis had paid for. if anyone ever found out, they’d immediately assume that he only hosted this just to get her away from everyone. 

her walls clenched around him as he moaned aloud, “this pussy is so good— so tight f’me, princess.” 

the tip of his cock hit her cervix as she cried, “please lewis, please— wanna cum~”

“mmh~ god,” lewis groaned loudly, his deep lusty voice echoing inside the room alongside the slapping of their skins and her moans. “gonna cum soon, baby— gonna be a good girl and cum with me?”

“mhm yeah,” she nodded. 

“good because— ah~ keep doin’ that- i’m- ah fuck!” lewis grunted as his thrusting slowed. she came, too, her walls clenching around him still as she reached her climax and the sense of euphoria washed over her. 

lewis’ face was beaded with sweat and pleasure, leaning forward for a brief moment to keep his composure. his cock remained inside her as he pulled up her head and tangled his tongue with hers. 

he sighed, the sound of contentment covering up her quivering breath as he smirked mischievously.

this was a celebration, indeed.

this, however, was a celebration for the two of them only. this was how she rewarded him for putting up with this season, and lewis simply accepted her reward without hesitation.

after all, not everyone in the grid got to get a taste of her. if everyone found out, they’d be jealous. for one driver, they’d be furious— but lewis couldn’t find himself to care right now.

“lewis!” ten minutes later, charles, max and lando found the older british driver in his minibar. 

lewis looked at the trio with curious eyes as charles started, “have you seen max’s sister?”

lewis’ eyes narrowed for a brief moment, “max’s… sister?” he then looked at max with a questioning look.

“yeah, my eldest sister— i brought her tonight. you’ve met her earlier, remember?” the world champion asked lewis with the naivety that everyone else carried in the room. 

oh, lewis had met her, alright. 

he met her tonight. and the races before tonight. and the summer break. and almost everyday. not that the world champion had a knowledge of it. 

lewis let out an ‘ah’ as if he realized who the dutchman was talking about, “that sister! i think i’ve seen her—“

“mon sœur!” my sister! charles exclaimed, slurring out his words as he pointed at the direction of the staircase. “wait… max’s sister!”

there stood max’s sister, who looked less frazzled and fucked out than what she looked like ten minutes ago.

lewis almost chuckled. she’s quick to pretend like she hadn’t had a cock inside her just about now— that’s what lewis loved about her. she knew when to play pretend. 

max’s eyes narrowed at his sister while she approached the group. she immediately glanced at lewis, who merely smirked at the sight of her. max continued to pester her, “where the hell have you been? we’ve been looking for you for an hour!”

“bullshit,” lando called out with a laugh, “you were fucking singing disco tits the entire time! stop lying to everyone!”

the woman’s head cocked to the side as she smirked at her little brother. max’s face flushed red and shoved lando, “shut up.”

“well, i’m here now— and you’re drunk,” she pointed at max. “we’re going.”

“already???” max whined. “fineeee~”

“alright well,” lewis finally spoke. “it’s nice having you lots here. i’ll catch up with you soon, yeah?” but his eyes remained at the sight of her as he smiled. he wasn’t even talking to max or his friends— but her. 

she smirked too (not that the three younger men noticed) and nodded, “absolutely. we’ll catch up with you soon, lewis. thanks for the invite.” 

and it wasn’t even fifteen minutes later after the verstappen siblings departed when the knighted driver received a text.

the better verstappen 🥰: thanks for the invite, lew 💗 i hope the compensation paid off

lh 🫶: you know that times spent with you are worth more than one shitty season my love 😉

lh 🫶: def made things better after abu dhabi tho. what do you think about going to san marino and bora bora for the long break?

the better verstappen 🥰: for you? i’ll keep excusing myself from max’s family vacation plans baby

♡   moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1

[dokidokitsuna]

The Diary of Penny Polendina

The other day I was inspired to try working on a different NeverFell Projects installment, one that would probably be a lot shorter and quicker to write, because it's not like I care that deeply about Penny, right??

Well, I was incredibly wrong. ^^; So wrong that I'm actually having trouble with this story now...essentially, Penny goes through a bit of a 'rebellious phase' (gross oversimplification, but that's all you get for now) and there are, surprisingly, a lot of aspects of that character arc that I want to explore. Plus, a pivotal connection with Pyrrha, the climax of which I haven't quite figured out yet...

God only knows if I'll be able to finish, or if I'll just write the first 2/3rds of the story and leave it at that. But I figured I might as well warm up by talking about the designs. ^^

Penny's new look is basically 'Disney's Pinocchio, color picked from Arthur Watts' character design'~

I didn't necessarily want her to look evil, just...bolder. Like she specifically picked 'daring' items that maybe her father or Ironwood's PR team would rather she didn't wear, at least not compared to the more innocent frilly pastels she had on before. Between the chest window, midriff, and short sleeves, she's actually showing a lot more skin than before, despite still being 90% covered up. ^^;

Those multicolored wrist accessories are prototype weapons invented by Dr. Watts, that mix and pressurize Dust from the cartridges to cast "artificial magic". This way I get to do a bit of the 'Winter Maiden Penny' stuff in this Vol. 3-locked AU~

Penny's magic usage is one of the things that stumped me when writing this story...In NeverFell, magic isn't just glowy rainbow lasers or weather powers-- it essentially allows the user access to any conceivable semblance at any time; its potential is limitless. Being a beginner, Penny would probably just come up with one signature 'spell' to use in tandem with her Floating Array...but I can't decide what I want her to do. ^^; I think I'd like for her to do something connected to dance, because I feel like that's something unique to her, the way she dances with her weapons before striking. Nobody ever points out how the "robot" in the cast is the one who chooses to spend energy on unnecessary movements that aren't even used to maneuver around an enemy; they're just cute and fun. ^^ I think that's a great encapsulation of who Penny is~

Redesigning Pyrrha is always super difficult, because her original design is so perfect. But I like this end result a LOT. ^^ I may need to adjust the pant legs a bit, but overall it feels like a very believable alt outfit that keeps the spirit of the character.

Pyrrha is another one of the stumbling blocks in this story, because I'm now forced to create at least one malleable personality trait for her-- i.e. one that isn't intrinsically tied to Jaune and/or the plot. Something that she could actually take into a meaningful relationship with a different character... I had the idea to expand her "I'm sorry!" gag into a real guilt complex, where she has trouble letting go of instances where she's made mistakes or hurt someone. In this case, dismembering Penny 1.0 and essentially ending her life. :T She seeks out 2.0 in a desperate effort to make things right, and ends up helping her with ...things, and growing as people or whatever, and all that other stuff I have yet to write. ^^;

I just realized that Pyrrha could use her polarity semblance to pull Penny towards her in a situation where they need to reach each other...that's so cute. ^^ I gotta remember that~

[stargirl-ae]

Anything for my Wife: L. Howlett

Pairing: Logan x Female Reader

Summary: Reader has a formal work gala she needs to attend and she's spoken to her colleagues that's she's newly married and they wish to meet her husband. Push comes to shove Logan attends the work gala with Reader and the night ends with an exploration of each other.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Unprotected schmex (wrap it before ya tap it, gents), Oral (F! Receiving), Fake marriage.

Word count: 2.4k

MDNI

a/n: okay, hi! i legit haven't written in SO LONG ! buut, this has been in my notes for like three weeks and I wrote this after watching Deadpool and Wolverine for the second time and i legit was half drunk off of six raspberry twisted teas, but when i say i had an entire h o r n y episode about logan, gnawing on the iron bars (or whatever brittany broski said) plus i don't know how to do summarys and warnings and correctly.

this is not spell checked / grammar checked don’t come for me

anyway, enjoy yall 𝜗𝜚

⋆༺𓆩⚔️𓆪༻⋆

“Please Logan, for the love of God, can you please just get dressed? I will leave alone.” you shouted more at yourself than at Logan, you were still getting ready in the mirror, with a large white light surrounding your reflection. The bathroom counter was scattered with your makeup, your straighter, and possible perfume options. “This is stupid, I don’t look right in a goddamn suit,” You could hear him mumble in the hallway outside of the bathroom. “Look, a lot of important people are going to be there, I just want to see like it’s like I have my life together, with a good job and a husband, please !” at this point you're gritting these words through my teeth. 

“A husband !? You don’t even have a goddamn ring? How are people supposed to believe that!?” The temper in his voice only seems to get higher. “It doesn’t take a fucking genius to order one online.” You snap back at him. Letting out a breath and stare into you reflection, your dark hair perfectly straighten out, your eyes surrounded by the color of sage green eyeshadow, black satin dress clung to your figure perfectly hugging ever curve and contour out of your body. Turning around to look over your shoulder to see yourself from behind and in all honestly, you're happily with your results of your own talent with your hair and makeup.

You could hear Logan huffing, he can be so goddamn stubborn. “A fake marriage, how fucking cliche can y-“ his words were cut off, he stood in the doorframe of the bathroom and the energy changes in the room, the air stiff, no movement, no friction. Turning your head slightly to see Logan in black dress pants, no shirt, no shoes. His toned torso, rising and falling with every breath he took. “Shit, if I knew you cleaned up this good I would’ve made you my fake wife months ago.” His mouth slid into a smirk, his hazel eyes raking my body up and down. Suddenly in that moment you felt way too exposed, collarbones exposed, the way the low-cut satin hung between your tits. “Look, you need to tell me now if you’re going with me, I need to leave in like ten minutes.” You huff out at him, eyes would dart from his chest to his eyes, his lips. “If you weren’t so busy eye-fucking me, we could’ve left two minutes ago, bub.”

— *after the work gala* —

“A fake wife, what a fucking idea,” Logan buried his words into your neck, his lips slightly nicking at the sensitive skin. The work gala ended up being filled with tequila and champagne, seeing a fake three carat diamond ring on your left hand being left to pretend this perfect married life with Logan brought me to this very situation; slammed into his bedroom door here in the X-Mansion. “I could make you mine, bub.” His voice vibrates against the side of your neck. "Y-yes Logan, I’m yours, please.” the words came out more as a whine than they did words. His scruff tickled the sensitive skin near my pulse point, he snuck in a laugh against my skin. “Look at you, so desperate for me.” He trailed kisses down my neck and near my collarbone. My breath hitches in my throat. My thoughts were messily left all over my mind, this was so wrong, but fuck, everything felt so good, so fucking right. 

We were on the outside of Logan’s bedroom door, “Logan, someone could hear us, s-someone could see us.” Your eyes fluttered, his lips felt so good against the tender skin of my collarbone. “Shh, it’s two in the morning, nobody’s up.” Just fucking us. “Wait, wait, wait.” Grabbing on to his face, to pull him away from my skin. “Please, behind closed doors.” Your breath was heavy, and Logan's hazel eyes looked into mine with lust and need. “Do I need to pretend we’re fucking married? I can do that.” He raised an eyebrow at you, in mere seconds he crouches down and buries his arms behind your legs, with the sudden movement you squeal. “Shit! Logan!.” He manages to open the door and we head through the doorframe. 

There was no denying the way you felt about Logan, why would you think I would choose him as a husband. Well, a fake husband.  Logan kicked the door closed and took a few more steps until we reached his bed. The room smelled of whiskey, musk, and cigars. The smell was undeniably him, the definition of a man. “For the love of God, you look too fucking good in this dress,” He was gentle, placing you down on his bed. His eyes taking in every detail of your dress and your body. Your chest rising and falling with the amount of sheer intensity of what this was. “Too good to fuck me in?” The words left your mind before you could even process them. Your left hand flew to my mouth, not believing what you just said. “Oh my God.” 

You could see Logan’s eyes fall to the faux wedding ring, “Is that what my wife wants?” My wife, fuck that sounds so good. He snakes his way between my legs, his face meeting mine. He takes a deep breath in, a smirk curling upon his lips. “I can smell how fucking wet this cunt is for me.” he sneaks a hand between my thighs, playing over the delicate fabric of your lace panties. “Mmm, so fucking wet. Tell me how you want me bub, hmm ? My wife, how does she want me?” His pointer finger swirls little circles on your clit through the thin fabric. Logan may be over two hundred years old, he may know is way around a woman’s body but fuck this was heavenly. “Fuck, please Lo- fuck me please.” Your plea rung through his bedroom like a prayer. 

“That’s my girl.” He placed rough kisses on your shoulder, biting down on the strap of your dress, his finger still swirling circles on your sensitive bud. You could only manage to hum back positive hymns back to him. He pulled down a single strap until your chest was revealed. He managed to do the same with the other side until your entire chest was exposed, your nipples hardened under the feeling of the cold air in his room. “Fuck, look at you, so fucking beautiful.” He buried his head between your tits, his breath against your sensitive skin. Placing kisses across one of your breast, licking over your nipple, a ray of electricity struck through you. He places his warm mouth over your nipple, his teeth nicking lightly, sucking you in softly. Grabbing a pillow and placed it over your face to keep myself from sounding like a fool. Your nipple came from his mouth with a comical pop, he laughed to himself and moved to the other side. In a way you wanted to laugh at that sound, tossing aside the pillow off his bed.d “Do you know how hard I tried to control myself tonight? With you looking like this?” He looked up at you through his thick lashes. Again he places his warm mouth against your sensitive skin, in that same moment I could feel him push your panties to the side. Skin to skin, his index finger meet your clit, circling the sensitive bunch of nerves. 

“Oh my god,” everything felt like heaven. Logan let go out go of your nipple from his mouth to move to the part of your dress that had still been hugging my torso. He trailed kisses down your stomach, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, dragging you towards the edge of the bed. He lowered himself between your thighs, feeling his breath against your core. You could hear him breathing you in, his chest heaving. “Look at her bub, fucking soaking for me.” His voice hums against the walls of his bedroom. He inches closer to your clit, taking in small kitten-like licks. Even the slightest amount of friction was ecstasy. Your hands traveling into his brown hair, peppered with grey strands. He hums against you, he licks through you folds, leaving you a moaning mess “Fuck, yes Logan! Please baby!” Your back arches off his king sized bed. His tongue laps over your clit time and time again. He dives two fingers into your aching core while his tongue laps over your bud. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes!” You praise him, your words linger in throughout the room. His fingers steady in your cunt, curling up to reach that sweet fucking spot, your mouth falls open like a goddamn fool. 

“Look at you bub, you wanna come for me?” He came up from in between my legs, his eyes meeting yours. “Yes, L-Logan, please, baby, let me come. Don’t stop.” God, you couldn’t have sounded anymore needy. His fingers pump into your cunt like his like his life depended on it. His thumb tracing over your clit. Your breathing was erratic. Your chest heavy with ecstasy. Your stomach was tight with emotion and warmth. Your chants echoed like a perfect prayer. The warm coil snapped in your stomach and your mouth fell open with the sound of Logan’s name. “Holy shit, fuck me.” You breathe out. 

You could feel the heat in your face flush, you swear you were seeing stars. Your eyes raked over Logan’s body, his chest, his stomach, your eyes meet where his waistline laid perfectly, the outline of his slightly hard cock. “You want me to fuck you huh? Anything for my wife.” With his words he undoes his belt to under his button on his black dress pants. He pulled down his pants slowly, leaving his cock to spring up. He’s not even fully hard and it’s fucking huge. “Oh my god,” Once again the words leave my mind before I could process. He palms himself, his head falling back with the smallest moan. “You gonna be my good girl? My good fucking wife taking my cock?” His words like velvet through your ears. Your voice was barely audible as a hum, you shook your head. He pulled down his boxer letting his cock spring free, coming up to nearly hit his stomach. His tip was this deep red leaking pre-cum. “L-Lo, I don’t know if you’re gonna fit baby,” In all honestly, you did process that thought. “Oh baby, you can take, you can tell me if you wanna stop okay?” His words were soft as he pumped himself. 

Logan wanted to learn your body as he went, and what he knew as of right now if that you’re just a sensitive bunch of nerves, he passes the head of his cock through my folds, playing against your clit, leaving you a whimpering mess. Moving your hips against his cock until he’s lined up against your cunt. “Look at her, begging me to fuck her,” His cock was at your sensitive entrance of the your cunt, “Please baby, fuck me.” Your brows furrowing together. Logan pushed into you ever so slowly, your cunt hugging around every inch of his cock. He groans out your name. “Goddamn it!” He cursed out. “You’re so fucking tight,” He pushed in another inch into your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, Lo, stretching out my fucking pussy, fuuuck.” The words fell out of your mouth. Logan’s hips moved ever so slighty, energy pulsing through your sensitive cunt. “Do you want me to stop.” The genuine concern brought you back to reality, looking down to find that he had inches to go into your cunt. Shaking your head no, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. “Please, please, go deeper.” Fucking whines left your lips. He pushes deeper into your cunt, his thumb lapping over your clit. This was fucking ecstasy. 

Each movement was carefully done by Logan, his hips jerking slightly, every advancement into my care was heaven. “Fuck, baby. She’s takin’ me so fuckin’ well.” He gritted through his teeth. The delicate praises ring through my ears nearly take me over the edge. “Fuck, give me more, please Lo-“ a pathetic please, a beg, a whine. “As you wish, sweetheart.” He pushes his further into you, reaching that soft spongy center in your sex. He curses out, learning to tower over you. Snaking a hand underneath your thigh to cradle the soft skin, sneaking his lips to meet the crook in your neck. His tongue tracing a line up to your ear, taking your ear lobe between his teeth. Rocking his hips into you, setting a steady pace and leaving you to chant his name like. hymn. “So … fuckin’ … good.” Each thrust kept tightening the warm coil in your core, getting ready to snap. 

“Yes, fuck … Lo, please … don’t stop.” The pathetic plea left your lips barely audible. “I hear you baby, you wanna come on my cock?” He brings his head out from the crook of your neck. His forehead meeting yours, leaving your chest heaving, you hand snaking from the back of his neck to his messy chocolate brown hair. His pace quickens, causing your mouth to fall, Logan looks at you with those determined eyes. “Come on baby, come for me,” His cock was nearly hitting your cervix, your brain became foggy, he was fucking you stupid, you could see the stars, the coil in your stomach would grow tighter and tighter. “You can do it baby, go ahead.” Logan’s soft words fell into your ears. “Oh my god, fuck fuck, Logan! Fuck! I’m coming, I’m coming!” Your legs shook around Logan’s waist, your chest trying to find all the air to breathe in.

You tried to find any to say anything, but all of your words came out as mumbles, barely comprehensible. A smirk curled up amongst Logan’s lips. “Look at you baby, such a good girl.” His lips came very close to grazing yours. “So good for me." He places a kiss on the top of your forehead. Your legs fell on the bed, feeling more like jelly rather than bone and flesh. "You okay?" Logan asks, laying next to you, covering the both of your bodies' lower halves. Turning your head to look into his hazel-green eyes. Sighing out, "Yes."

"Let's get cleaned up for the night huh, bub? You should stay with me tonight." He began to sit up, your eyes tracing over every muscle along his back. "I am your wife after all, Lo." You sit up with him, going in to kiss him on the cheek. "Might just have to make your my real wife." The amount of oxytocin flowing through the both of your brains could wake up a tiny village but both you and Logan ended the night tangled in each other's bodies, fitting into each other perfectly.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

the end

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

[notmorbid]

all-night pharmacy.

dialogue prompts from all-night pharmacy by ruth madievsky.

you're so alive, it's scary.

being a person doesn't come naturally for me.

what's the deal with this place?

you are my best and my worst friend.

are we horrible people?

i like the idea of having someone to come home to.

i can't tell if you're being cruel or if you're just dumb.

these aren't the decisions of a well-adjusted person.

the less you know about my life, the better.

everyone here is a liar and a cheat.

you deserve to have a life of your own.

a person can't be held responsible for what they don't know.

all relationships are transactional.

no one should have that much power over you.

it isn't too late to come back.

you're uninvited from my birthday party.

i love you, but you're such a cunt.

who do you think you are?

forced intimacy makes me lightheaded.

i know you're in there. let me in.

jesus. why do you have a knife?

what happened last night?

it was less embarrassing to pretend i didn't care.

maybe i'm not the mothering type.

i wish i could carry some of this pain for you.

i need a break from feeling so much all the time.

sometimes i can't tell if i'm asleep or awake.

whatever's going on, we'll figure it out.

i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared all the time.

this is the most i can imagine for myself.

if you're not asking yourself 'am i ruining my life?' at least once a day, you're not living at all.

you act like you're over it, but it's okay if you're not.

all my life, i've felt like a dead animal with its skin still on.

it's a virtue to rid yourself of anything that doesn't serve you.

i've never had a day of rest in my life.

i chase after you like a dog, leaving pieces of myself behind, and every time, you act like that's how it's supposed to be.

you don't take me seriously. i'm not a real person to you.

i can't play house anymore.

never say that name in front of me.

to you, other people are always the problem.

you can't reach a mutual understanding without spilling blood.

want to make fifty bucks?

the only way to really see a person is to lose everything you have in common.

you don't think we'll get caught?

our loyalty is to story, not reality.

just don't do anything that could result in a lawsuit or a tmz article, and you're fine.

i don't have the energy to keep up with your antics.

our most beloved delusion was that lying to each other was a kind of love.

speaking our fears aloud won't save us.

one day, the mask slipped. i haven't been able to wear it since.

i try not to think about my life at all.

a junkie can spot another junkie without a flashlight.

your voice reminds me of wool sweaters.

boundaries? i don't know her.

i'm just sick of doing the same goddamn thing every day.

you are obsessed with a projection that will never love you back.

think of me as a spiritually connected friend.

i know liars. you don't strike me as one.

you have iconically poor judgment.

has anyone ever told you about your past lives?

you're capable of tolerating a lot. frankly, more than you should.

friendship can be a slow burn. you don't have to consume it like a drink at last call.

i'll give you a clue. i work for myself.

you make me want to feel things again.

criticism is still a cousin of attention.

you don't have to pretend to like something just because i made it.

i know you crave being told what to do.

you don't have to settle for being a person things happen to.

you have desires. act on them.

bitch, does this look like an intro to philosophy seminar?

i thought i had quit you.

my favorite. how did you know?

i feel like my organs are cannibalizing each other.

how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question. i'm actually asking.

i can't tell if i believe it, or if i'm making excuses for myself.

sometimes i wonder if it's healthy how much meaning you see in things.

you're always waiting for the universe to hurt you or to love you. usually in that order.

that's how it was in my family. reading the room was a survival skill.

where will all the animals go in the rapture?

a bunch of fuckups under one roof doesn't constitute a family.

my little saint.

time passes more slowly as a sober person.

you'd better not pull away from me now.

there's a russian proverb that goes, 'so much is ruined by saying it aloud'.

you wear your emotions like a name tag.

your resting face frightens me.

how are you both the most innocent and the most experienced person i've ever met?

i need you to just be here with me.

our dead deserve to see you happy.

i like the idea of being marked by you.

i don't know what i saw, but it was more than i wanted.

i know what i saw.

i can't tell which of the memories are real, if any.

i can't believe you're mine.

nobody warned me how terrifying it is to get what you want.

you're cute when you're freaked out.

sex is supposed to be unsettling.

there are things i need to atone for.

you can't go back like it's nothing.

i won't live in service of my dead's vision for me.

___ was a real person. a murder isn't a metaphor.

count five things you can see. four things you can touch. three things you can hear. two things you can smell. one thing you can taste.

banish one god, and you'll end up worshiping another.

i want to be with you, but i don't want to keep feeling like this.

you know everything about me, but you won't let me know you.

you aren't someone i can keep at a distance.

i've been reading about intergenerational curses.

resisting something isn't the same as not wanting it.

anything you say stays between us.

i can't decide if i like you.

most people only possess a third of the empathy they think they have.

will it get easier?

hope is a tricky thing: losing it is bad, but so is having too much.

i don't want the future to come. i have a bad feeling about it.

in cartoons, you don't start falling until you look down.

why are you here? where have you been?

how did you know i'd come looking for you?

you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know.

i didn't have the language for what was happening to me.

you were supposed to protect me.

there's a lot i don't remember. a lot i don't want to remember.

i wouldn't have looked for me, either.

we belong to ourselves now.

you know where i am, and i know where you are. maybe that's enough.

when i'm down, vigilante justice makes me feel better.

survival is provisional.

[ship-graveyard]

Traveling with P1Harmony 💕

🛫 - Air Travel Edition - 🛬

☁️ - fluff | 🌙 - gn!reader | 💞 - all members

note: occasional references to travel anxiety

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Keeho:

♡ - always makes it to the airport perfectly on time (no getting bored or stressing because he’s timed everything perfectly)

♡ - incredible at navigating crowds and fighting to keep your place in lines for security, boarding, and deplaning

♡ - idk how but the airline always loses his luggage

♡ - you need a break from the airport chaos? dw his arms are your safe haven and he’s got a hug already queued up for you

♡ - will take the middle seat for you if you’ve been assigned it BUT he will whine about it later (good news: you can just kiss his pout off his lips and he’ll forgive you)

♡ - want help lifting your luggage into an overhead bin? luckily your big strong boyfriend is here to help! (he will accidentally smack someone in the face with it when taking it back down but shhh he’s trying)

♡ - bothers you 24/7 on the plane, but he means well… he just can’t help it bc he wants to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible (ooh what are you watching?? are you hungry? thirsty?? he could definitely steal water from someone in first class, would that help?)

♡ - wants you to sleep on his shoulder SO bad. he’ll be slowly leaning into your space if you start to nod off until you get the hint

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Theo:

♡ - lets you completely melt into him if you want to sleep while waiting for boarding (just results in the sleepiest pile of limbs bc he’s probably out immediately too)

♡ - overpacks… why does he have 14 hats when he only ever wears one? why did he pack a toaster in his carry-on?? the world will never know

♡ - has 7 different beverages with him at all times

♡ - more likely to distract you and redirect your energy than directly comfort you if you get travel anxiety, but it still helps significantly just knowing he’s aware of it and by your side if you need anything at all

♡ - he’s going to fight you for claim of the armrest and not in a cute way

♡ - will smack you if you turn the overhead light on (if you really want to read/draw or do anything else that you need to see clearly, he MIGHT let you turn the light on if you ask nicely and/or sweet talk him)

♡ - spends half the flight judging the people who brought their children on the plane

♡ - will get hopelessly invested in whatever you’re doing/watching but pretends not to be whenever you catch him leaning over to see better

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Jiung:

♡ - brings an extra sweatshirt/jacket for you bc he knows you’ll forget your own, get cold, or need the comfort

♡ - takes care of everything that might be stressful for you. you’re nervous? dw he’s got your printed boarding passes ready and your luggage handled. you just need to show up and hold his hand

♡ - does a mental analysis of the best quality airport cuisine compared to affordability bc you deserve to be well-fed and pampered but he’s also really practical

♡ - surprise kisses as positive reinforcement when you remember to hydrate

♡ - zonks out on the plane. he’s been busy taking care of you, let the poor guy drool on your shoulder a bit

♡ - type of person to watch the flight tracker the entire way there

♡ - if you accidentally intrude on his foot space be prepared for the most intense high-stakes game of footsie you’ve ever been involved in (he’ll win but end up just pulling your legs onto his lap bc he feels a bit guilty and he loves you too much)

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Intak:

♡ - loses his boarding pass immediately (you better have backups)

♡ - will get lost in the airport if you let him out of your sight

♡ - lets you buy anything you want with his card (he just wants to trail along and hang off your arm and spend time with you)… puppyboy IM SORRY who said that

♡ - leans his entire weight on you when waiting to board bc he’s tired and he loves you and you’re right there

♡ - underpacks. it’s always “babe can i borrow your toothbrush? i forgot mine😔” and “one pair of pants is probably enough for the whole week, right?”

♡ - you’ll have to be the responsible one tbh but he’s always right there if you need anything and he’d step up in an instant if you asked him to. it’s only bc he feels so comfortable with you that he lets himself relax so much and truly be himself, so he’s eternally grateful that you look out for him when he needs it

♡ - asks to be involved in whatever you choose to do on the plane bc he wants to spend that time with you

♡ - if you have trouble speaking up, he’d happily do it for you. need accommodations?need to ask someone to move so you can go to the bathroom? he’s got you

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Soul:

♡ - gets pulled over at security for something really bizarre (a cool rock he found that makes it look like he’s smuggling drugs, a jar of loose coins of various types, the creepiest figurine imaginable that he decided was cute, etc, etc)

♡ - might need your help with translating some things depending on where you’re flying out of/to (he could probably figure it all out on his own, but he likes being able to rely on you so he doesn’t have to channel all of his energy into making himself understood)

♡ - traveling exhausts him tbh but hugs and spontaneous kisses help him recharge!

♡ - equally likely to distract you from nerves by starting fun conversations or reaching out and reassuring you with physical affection

♡ - hoards the little snacks they give out on the airplane and offers them to you as surprise gifts later

♡ - watches everyone else’s screen on the plane instead of his own lol (he’s invested in the movie two rows up leave him be)

♡ - wants to try to learn a few phrases of the local language on the plane if you’re traveling somewhere with a native language he doesn’t speak

♡ - if you fall asleep on the plane expect to have random braids in your hair when you wake up (it’s not his fault that he wanted something to do with his hands and in his defense he finds you absolutely adorable with them. esp finds it endearing if you leave them in bc that’s his handiwork you’re showcasing)

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Jongseob:

♡ - might share some of your travel anxiety, but instead of making him distant it just makes him more invested in getting you both there safely and being conscious of your needs. you can be certain that he’s done his research, and you’ll always be safe and taken care of when he’s by your side

♡ - the most difficult part of flying with him is getting him to wake up early tbh. he’ll be slumped against you in a half-successful back hug while you scan the departures board for your gate bc he’s still half asleep

♡ - effortlessly cool and fashionable even with messy hair and comfortable clothes

♡ - soft kisses to your temple and warm hands brushing against yours when he wants to get your attention

♡ - wants to switch off picking songs to listen to on the plane (or listen to a combined playlist of each of your interests) with shared earbuds bc he thinks it’s an important way to share your interests and emotions with each other

♡ - before you even ask he’s handing you a Nintendo switch controller and encouraging you to play something with him (dw he finds you adorable no matter if you’re terrible at it or if you kick his ass when it comes to gaming)

♡ - prefers pushing the armrest up so you can lean into each other and just be close (he isn’t super cuddly/touchy in public, but he enjoys the casual proximity. and sometimes the urge to dote on you is too strong to be contained)

♡ - not really the type of person to speak up and ask the flight crew if he needs something, but the second you need something he’s on his feet and advocating for you